In Dreams
by Senashenta
Summary: Companions are Spirits, and are said to be ethereal, angels of another time and place, bound to the Earth by a spell… or a curse. Now a threat to them has risen, and thanks to a "Spirit" named Lyntar, things around Valdemar are going to change...
1. I'm Still Here

**Disclaimer: **Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Notes:** Thank you to everyone who submitted characters for _In Dreams! _They'll all be introduced in good time! :)

**AU Background:** They are Spirits of the Forest, crystal eyed and white as freshly fallen snow, and seen only occasionally in fleeting glances. They are said to be ethereal, angels of another time and place, bound to the Earth by a spell… or a curse. And it is the destiny of those chosen as Collegium Trainees to search for a Spirit to call their own. Only two or three of each year's Trainees manage it, and those lucky souls have been lifted to a place of honor in Valdemarian society. A place where they are among the elite guard of their Monarch and Country. A place where they can call themselves "Heralds"...

**IN DREAMS**  
**Prologue: I'm Still Here  
By Senashenta  
**

A shriek, torn from an equine throat, echoed in the night.

It was a warning to the others, and in the utter silence that followed it there was no doubt that they had heard. The tortured sound had cut through the cold air of the Pelagiris like a knife, leaving no heart unaware of the agony behind it.

_Please… please, I just want to die…_

The Spirit threw her head back, even as a thick rope dropped around her neck, choking a second scream off before it could be voiced, and the one that was already snagged on her back legs tightened, yanking them out from under her. She was helpless, now, and in the face of what she knew was coming, she could only wish for the ultimate gift from the Gods. If only the Shadow-Lover would come for her… before…

She was dragged bodily across the ground, which was still half-frozen with frost from the night, and in the pale light of the approaching dawn, she vanished into the forest, her struggles having been forcefully ceased.

From the shadows beyond where the swift and terrifying attack had occurred, a pair of crystal eyes glittered sadly as a silent watcher turned from the scene and ghosted away between the trees, already reaching his mind out into the fading night.

_:Another__ one has been taken, Aterya.:_

_:Who__?:_

_:Sashara__. Sashara is gone.:_

Silence, then; _:five__ in the last moon, then. Our numbers are dwindling.:_

_:Yes__.:_ A momentary pause. _:Is there nothing we can do?:_

There was a sadness in the reply. _:I__ fear not on our own, Lyntar.:_

_:Then__, what..?:_

_:I__ know not. We can only wait for our Fate to claim us.:_

_:Aterya__, you can't mean to just stand by and let the Shadows run us into nothingness!:_

No response came, and after a moment the young Spirit withdrew his mind. It was clear that his Elder had no intention of continuing the conversation. Snorting, he stopped walking long enough to crush a tiny treeling, which was just beginning to come into the world, under his front hooves.

He was angry. With Aterya, with the Shadows, with the fact that he had been born a Spirit in the first place—and he was particularly angry with himself, for being able to do nothing but watch while Sashara was taken.

He was a worthless coward, a wretched, flea-bitten windbag, and certainly not worthy of being called a Spirit at all. He should have done something—anything—to keep Sashara from falling victim to the Shadows.

_There was nothing I could do._

Finally, with the sapling crushed into mulch under his feet, his anger gave way to sadness, and then to a stony resolve.

_If Aterya won't do anything to stop it… I will._


	2. Affirmation

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concept belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** I'll be mentioning characters as they're introduced, and here's the first one: Leshie Rakmour belongs to Fireblade. Her horses, Aimee and Freira, were made up by me. Aimee means "beloved friend" and Freira means "sister". In this Alternate Universe, the Rakmour family is comparable to the Ashkevron family; they're big, unorthodox, rich, and breed wonderful horses.

**Notes:** Some rather unpleasant themes in this chapter, as the main character's background is nothing short of a brothel. Just a warning. Ah, and Companions—when they are in the wild, they are referred to as "Spirits". Only _after_ they have Chosen and gone to Haven are they called "Companions". Also, the Elders are the equivalent of Grove Born, and there are more than one at a time, though none of them venture into Haven, and are actually never seen by humans at all.

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter One: Affirmation  
By Senashenta  
**

Three slaps fell, all following one another in quick succession, but the girl they were directed toward did nothing to defend herself. Instead, she simply flinched as each blow connected with her flesh, stinging painfully. She would have bruises in the morning, but she would live, and the marks would serve as a reminder to the other girls that disobedience would _not_ be tolerated.

Brianna Osias—"Bri" to most—was used to being an example, and knew that the consequences of attempting to block the slaps would be far worse than just a few mottled patches of skin: her wrist still ached when it rained, where it had been broken. That had been the first and only time she had tried to stop the abuse.

After the third smack, the hand raised as if to deliver another, then paused in midair as the owner decided against it. Yhe bottom line, she knew, was that if he damaged her too badly, none of the customers would want her.

A whore who was less than pleasing to the eye would not make the kind of money he wanted, and, sad as it was, Bri depending on the customers as much as he did, for the occasional copper slipped to her under the table, and the meals they bought her before—and sometimes after—_her_ part of the deal was done, as well as the warmth of an actual bed to sleep in.

Of course, there were always those who preferred to simply pay their fee and cared not for the feelings and comfort of the girl, and there were also the occasional patrons who were more interested in paying a few coppers for a pretty-faced set of pells to beat on… but they were few and far between, and over the previous months, Bri had quickly learned how to pick the violent marks out of a crowd.

That wasn't to say that since she could tell which ones would be abusive, she avoided them. It was quite the contrary; much to the annoyance of her Master, she sought them out, and there were two reasons for that.

The first was that, should she be beaten black and blue in the course of a night, she would not be required to work for at least a week, and possibly more, depending on the severity of the injuries. Indeed, though he was a prick and a heartless bastard, the Master of operations did have _one_ good thing that could be said about him.

He tended to any injured or sick girls very well, which was more than she could say about some of the other people she had worked for in the past. Therefore, if she was hurt, not only would she be able to avoid working for a few days, but she would be given excellent care during them.

The second reason was more complex, and some would say more stupid as well. She picked out those who were abusive, and insisted that she be the one to service them, to save the other girls from having to do it.

Bri wasn't very old, but she wasn't innocent either, and many of the girls who showed up at the brothel's doorstep over the course of time she had been there were not so lucky. As she understood the darker side of humanity, she was able to handle it appropriately, but some of the other girls were… well, they were far too young and stupid to do the same.

Most of them were runaways, or, like her, orphans of war. And life in the brothel, however hard it may be, was infinitely better than life on the street, which was why they sought it out.

But they were still children, even if they were no younger than herself, and she simply could not let them be the ones to take the brunt of an angry boozehound or a mark with a fetish.

"Get up."

And, obediently, though her insides were twisted with loathing, she stood to face her Master, and when he made as if to slap her again, she refused to flinch. She would, most likely, regret that fact later. For now, however, he was through with her, and dismissed her curtly, with an angry hand gesture and a few choice words.

"Go clean yourself up. Your shift starts in a candlemark."

"Yes, sir." Swiftly, and with the silence of a cat—but not its grace, as grace was not her strong suit—she turned and vanished up the steps, which were situated near the back of the "inn" that served as the main headquarters for the brothel itself.

Once a customer paid, he—of, occasionally, _she_—could take the girl he had bought wherever he wanted, with the exception of leaving the city. But in the end they always returned to the rundown inn, to fix torn clothing and to mend bruises, both physical and emotional.

Now, Bri stood in front of the cracked mirror, which was mounted in front of a water basin in the single bathing room, and shared by all of the girls who worked there, staring into the polished glass.

Sad, and somehow haunted, her eyes were the same as ever behind the already-swelling flesh of her cheek. She had been born with what her father referred to as "twilight eyes", which were a shocking and ethereal shade of pale silverish-purple that made most people she encountered do a double take.

Of course, it would have made a more pleasant difference was she had been in a more respectable trade. As it was, her eyes only made her more popular with the customers, which was both a good and a bad thing. But she had nowhere else to go: the Flame Wars had taken away her only chance of living a normal life when the Karsite troops had burned her family's farm—which was situated near the border—to the ground, killing every living thing they could find on the property, her mother and younger brother included.

As for Bri herself, she had been in town, preparing to trade goods for food and clothing, and had arrived home to a massacre. She had been twelve then, and left on her own, with her mother dead and her father at war.

_I didn't make very good decisions._ Sighing, she leaned down and clamped a hand on the bucket of water, which stood next to the basin, then poured some into the wooden bowl, before returning the bucket and reaching for a cloth.

Indeed, at the time, she had taken what little she could scrounge from the wreckage of her farm, and, with the horse, Hail, which she had taken into town that morning, as her only companion, she set off, intending to find her father.

Her journey hadn't ended well, and she preferred not to think about the things that had happened to her along the way. In the end, she had nothing, including Hail, as she'd been forced to sell him when she ran out of food—she had cried, to watch the trader leading him away, and at that point, her old life had ended and her new life had begun.

_Why do I always torture myself by thinking about that day?_

Her father, she learned later, had been a casualty of war. Or so she had been told, after the war had ended. She had never seen his body, but she had no reason to believe he was alive, as she had never seen him again.

By the time the brothel took her in, she was fourteen and nothing but skin and bones. Bri had thought herself lucky, at first, as the man whom she now called "Master" had taken remarkably good care of her, making sure she was warm, that her belly was full, and that a Healer had taken care of her pains.

Only once she was well again did she learn that he had simply been making an investment. Despite her appearance, he had seen right through it to her twilight eyes and grayish-silver hair, to the girl she _could_ be, and had seen an opportunity.

_Now I'm fifteen and a whore._

Bri was not one to cry, but the bluntness of her own thoughts made tears spring to her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away, continuing to work at keeping the swelling in her face to a minimum.

It could be worse, she supposed. She had seen the fate of those poor orphans who were left to struggle in the streets. Most of them died, either of starvation or of violence, before they were old enough to _do_ anything with their lives. Even she, before the brothel, had been a thief.

_And a good one._ Her mind added, with a hint of pride, though she knew that both thieving and pride were sins. She vowed to stop her mind's trip down memory lane, and had successfully managed to concentrate on her work at hand when a light tap on the door made her look up.

Beyond the doorway, one of the other girls was peering timidly around the frame. Bri could tell who it was immediately, as only one of the others had eyes as expressive as the ones that now followed her shyly.

"Meena," she nodded toward the smaller girl, "can I help you?"

A moment of silence followed, and Meena managed to squeak her way into the bathing room entirely to stand just behind Bri and watch as she cleaned up. At fourteen years old, Meena was one of the youngest in the brothel—along with Edane—and also the reason that Bri had been disciplined, though not as severely as she had expected. The petite girl, with pale brown-blonde hair and blue eyes, had only shown up on the doorstep a fortnight before, and still wasn't used to the way things worked.

Thus, when their Master had told her to do something she didn't want to, she had very plainly told him so—and Bri had stepped in to defend the little one, knowing that it would mean a smack or two, but unwilling to let him beat Meena, who was a pure and wonderful child with a heart of gold, despite her shortcomings.

"I just…" her voice was a whisper, "wanted to say… thank you… for what you did…"

Bri smiled and shook her head, then hissed a bit when the still-invisible bruises twinged, "it was nothing, Meena." Pausing, she added, "but you need to learn—when he asks you to do something, you should just do it."

"But, he wanted me to—"

"It doesn't matter." Bri interrupted, holding up a finger to silence Meena. "He doesn't care what your preferences are, and he certainly doesn't care if there are things you're squeamish about. Remember, Meena, you came here and asked to be taken in, and I won't always be there to defend you." Sighing, she lowered her hand. "If you can learn to swim with the current, though, instead of going against it, you should be fine."

The brunette looked down. "I'm just not used to this."

"I know." A smile, and then she tsked. "I don't know if I'm going to be able to keep this from swelling up or not."

Guilt flashed in Meena's eyes. "Do you do stuff like that for everyone?"

"Stuff like what?"

"You know, like when he gets angry and you let him take it out on you."

"Ah." Bri shrugged, setting the cloth at the side of the basin and regarding her reflection critically. "I do, yes."

"Why?"

She couldn't help it; "I'm a gallant soul."

"Or you're an idio—oh!" Clamping her hands over her own mouth, Meena have a look of apology, making Bri giggle softly and pat the younger girl's shoulder. "I didn't mean that, Brianna…"

"Sure you did." Bri told her, somewhat sadly, "and you're probably right."

_In fact, I'm sure you are._

o-o-o-o-o

She was _not _going back.

Leshie Rakmour set her jaw determinedly and reigned in Aimee, making the palfrey snort irritably. She wanted to run, and Leshie was very much in agreement, but if she _was_ to allow her mount to do so, Aimee would run out of energy long before they reached Haven.

And though she intended to get there, horse or no horse, she was certainly of the opinion that the _prior_ was the preferable way to go.

_Though I'm not even sure if Haven is far enough away…_

She decided _not_ to think about the possibility that her family was coming after her. Once she made it to Haven and applied for the Guard… well, then there was nothing they could do… except find her and drag her back home to marry What's His Name the Duke of Nothing Important.

Aimee whickered, and Leshie patted her neck absently, glad that she had the horse with her. Even if she was somewhat poor company, she was infinitely better than most of the twits she'd had to deal with in the never-ending stream of dinner parties her mother insisted on having. Most of _them_ were either boring, _completely_ brainless, or so full of themselves that she was convinced, as they talked, that their egos might explode any second and leave little bits of courtier to float down from the sky like so much confetti.

Not her kind of people at all.

Normally, when the circumstances allowed, she slipped out of those kinds of parties to join the more entertaining ones in the servant's quarters, or to take Aimee or Freira out for a ride in the countryside, where all she had to worry about was if it was going to rain or not, and she never had to force polite interest in inane court chatter.

That was about the only thing she regretted about leaving; in running away, she could only take one of her two personal horses with her. She needed to get to Haven as quickly as possible, and so she had chosen Aimee for her stamina, though in truth Freira was the better trained of the two. It was a small consolation, but she knew that Freira would be taken care of, as horses were such an important part of the Rakmour legacy.

As for Aimee… she was fast, and could set a continuous pace for leagues, but Leshie wasn't sure if the palfrey would work out, assuming she got into the Guard. She would need a stout, sturdy mount then, especially if she somehow managed to be set as Cavalry, which was her eventual goal.

In any case, that would mean either selling Aimee to buy a stockier horse for battle, or simply saving what little money she had to buy one, and boarding her at a farm or stable somewhere.

Leshie wasn't too keen on the second option. She had seen the way some stables were operated, and the way they treated their horses: she wanted Aimee, stubborn mare that she was, to be treated just as well when they got to Haven as she had been back at the Rakmour Holdings.

She obviously needed more time to think on the subject.

_I wonder how much longer it'll take to get there?_

She had only ever been to Haven once, and she was more than willing to admit that she had slept most of the way there. But she had been five years old at the time and couldn't really be blamed for it: the rocking of a trade wagon was soothing, even if the sound of hooves on cobblestones was not.

She also wasn't sure how old you had to be to join the Guard. Though she would be turning sixteen in only three moon and thought of herself as grown, she had been told repeatedly by her mother and father that she was still just a child. She could only hope that those she encountered at Haven would be more willing to accept her for what she was.

_But, really, what am I?_

Nothing special, that was sure. Even thought she had been born into the Rakmour name, she hadn't been deemed worthy of Collegium training, which would have meant the possibility of becoming a Herald, as well as a sure ticket into the Guard should a Spirit not approach her on her Hunt.

Four of her siblings _had_ been taken, which was the part that hurt the most. Her older brother, first, and when he had been accepted for training, she had, for a time, held out the hope that she, too, would be taken. But the next year came, and two of her younger siblings were accepted, and the following year another one, and she was continuously passed by.

Eventually, the hope of becoming a Trainee dwindled and died, and instead she set her sights on the common Guard. She didn't even really care if she was in the general body of troops, sent to the border, or assigned to the Palace. She just wanted to… well, she just wanted to get away.

The thought had been in the back of her mind for so many years that she could no longer remember the day it had occurred to her.

And then one day her father had called her into his study and very simply stated that he had arranged a marriage for her. She was to wed a foreign Duke. It was a political marriage, of course, and she had never even met the man. Not to mention the idea that he was more than likely to be as old as her father himself.

That was probably the point when she decided that joining the Guard _now_ was a particularly good idea.

Leshie wasn't sure they would take her, but at least she was good with a blade, and that gave her an edge against many of the others who applied. She had seen them—farmers and the like, who had never swung anything but a pitchfork, and who certainly hadn't had the luxury of a Weaponsmaster when they grew up.

Absently, her hand drifted to the hilt of her sword. She was good with a sword, or any bladed weapon for that matter, and while she wasn't excellent with a bow and arrows, she was passable. But her real forte was with a light rapier like the one she currently carried on her hip.

It had been a gift, from the Weaponsmaster at Rakmour Holdings: he had commissioned it for her, and kept it for what he could see was coming—the day when she surpassed him in skill with that particular weapon. He had presented it to her with a half-concealed grin that was more than a little prideful, and she had accepted it with almost the same grin on her own face.

Weaponsmaster Finlay himself was excellent with a broadsword, and good with everything else, and though he could see from the beginning that she would eventually be better than him with a rapier, they both knew she could never defeat him in a fair fight with any other weapon.

Still, she was proud. And that was the day when she became Finlay's friend, as opposed to just being his student.

In reality, he was the person she looked up to: he had joined the Guard at a young age, trained and fought in wars, and then accepted the job of Weaponsmaster to be sure that those of the Rakmour clan, when they were sent out on their own, would be able to defend themselves. But of all the children he had trained, Leshie was his prize pupil.

He was closer to being a father to her than her real father, though she never would have said so to the Lord…

_I should have taken the time to say goodbye to him._

Finlay would understand, she knew: he had seen in her eyes how badly she wanted out of the Holdings, and she had confided in him her desire to join the Guard. He also knew that her father had no intention of letting her do so—he would see the need behind her leaving without so much as a warning or a farewell.

Eventually, she wanted to go back, to thank him, if nothing else, for being there for her when her mother was too busy entertaining airheaded courtiers and her father was too busy with politics to care what she was doing.

_If I had have slipped in and said goodbye to him, I could have asked him how long it would take me to get to Haven on Aimee's gait…_

She and Aimee had been on the road, after a swift night time departure, for nearly two days. As far as she knew, it would only take another day at the most for them to make it to the Capital, but she wasn't completely sure, and she was starting to get saddle sore.

Aside from that, she was tired of having to sleep at the side of the road. She may have been born into wealth, but she wasn't naïve: camping on a main trade road was _asking_ for trouble. It was only a matter of time before bandits or worse found her, and if that happened, despite Finlay's training, she would most likely be unable to fend them off.

Mostly, Leshie was concerned with the numbers—she was just one person, and bandits _tended_ to travel in packs, like wolves. If she was attacked, especially while she was asleep, she would have no way of defending Aimee or herself.

As if she knew that Leshie was thinking about her, the palfrey whuffed amiably.

"Good girl." Patting the horse's neck again, she transferred the reigns to her right hand to stretch her left above her head as her eyes strayed to the horizon and the setting sun. "We should stop soon… what do you think, Aimee?"

Aimee's ears flicked back, and her gait shifted for a second before she settled back into the comfortable trot she had been moving at. Leshie smiled as she dropped her arm back to her side. Her muscles were aching, and she knew as soon as she got out of the saddle she would regret all the riding she had been going for the last two days. She was almost temped to just keep on going, in a bid to put off the inevitable stiffness and soreness…

_But I'm tired, and much as I love Aimee I don't think she can get us to Haven without me driving._

With a sigh, she pulled gently on Aimee's reigns.

They would have to see about getting to Haven the next day… or the day after.

She certainly hoped it wouldn't take much longer than that.

o-o-o-o-o

_:I__ don't suppose you'll listen to reason, will you?:_

Lyntar leveled a flat look on Avalbane, who returned it, imitating the other stallion perfectly, and then shook his head. _:You__ know what's been going on.:_ Lyntar told him, _:something has to be done to stop it, or the Shadows will wipe us out all together. And Aterya won't do anything… Val, _none _of the Elders will!:_ Aggravated despite himself, he pawed the ground angrily. _:She__ can help us, I _know_ she can!:_

_:Well__, at least you're staying within Custom enough to Choose a girl.:_

Lyntar rolled his eyes. _:It's a stupid rule, that stallions Choose girls and mares Choose boys… and it has absolutely nothing to do with the situation at hand! Stop trying to change the subject.:_

_:Lyn__—:_

_:Listen__ to me, Val—:_

Avalbane's ears flicked, and he sighed. _:The__ Elders won't be happy, Lyn.:_

_:What__ else is new? I'm going, and you can't stop __me__.:_

_:So__, basically, the answer is "no".:_

A confused blink from Lyntar, _:what?:_

_:I asked if you would be willing to listen to reason, and I'm assuming now that the answer is "no".:_ Avalbane clarified, _:in any case, I hope you know what you're doing, Lyn. Aterya and the others will try to stop you, you know, and I don't know what I can do to help.:_

_:Just__ buy me some time.:_ Lyntar insisted, _:if the Elders ask… tell them you haven't seen me lately.:_

_:You__ want me to _lie _to the _Elders_?!:_ Avalbane demanded, his ears snapping back.

_:Not__ a lie, just bend the truth… "lately" can mean a lot of things.:_ His eyes focused on his friend, _:please, Val…:_ and when the other Spirit still looked reluctant, he shook his head. _:Look… Sashara is _gone_, Val… gone forever. How many more of our kind have to be lost to the Shadows before someone will do something to stop it?:_

There was a moment's pause, and Avalbane pawed the ground nervously, his tail swishing, before nodding shortly. _:Alright, Lyn, alright. You win, okay? Good luck, I suppose, and look out for yourself.:_ Then he added wryly; _:the Companions are going to have quite a bit to say to you, assuming you're going to Haven…:_

_:I__ am.:_

A chuckle. _:You always were a glutton for punishment, my friend.:_

_:Some__ things never change, I guess.:_ With the ghost of a mental smile, Lyntar bobbed his head and spun, breaking into a quick canter, weaving through the trees. _:Thanks__, Val.:_

Avalbane's response was unenthusiastic as best, and unintelligible at the most, and Lyntar could only laugh. The other stallion had never been the _talking_ type. Really, the conversation he had just managed to worm out of him was the most he had ever spoken at one time, as far as Lyntar was aware—though he had probably spoken at great lengths with Sashara, before she vanished, and most likely with at least one of the Elders in the past.

Sashara was probably the reason that Avalbane was willing to help him at all, come to think of it. He and she had been close—Lyntar occasionally thought that their relationship bordered on a lifebond—and having lost her, Avalbane had been _forced _to see the reality of the situation.

Now, even though he didn't have his friend's _blessing_, per say, he did have Avalbane behind him in his venture, which meant that he had at least a little bit of backup for when the Elders found out and came after him, intending, no doubt, to flay him right out of his pretty silver hide. Not that he really expected the other Spirit to defend him from their wrath, but it was nice to know he wasn't quite as alone as he had originally thought he was going to be.

Besides that, as he'd managed to convince Avalbane to just _twist_ the truth a little, he knew he would have at least a bit of a head start on the Elders—which, realistically, wouldn't make much of a difference, since they were faster then most Spirits, and with more endurance. But it was something, and with what he was heading off to do, he would need anything he could get.

Basically, when it came down to it, he was doing the next thing to breaking the law, though it was an unspoken one. He was knowingly going against hundreds of years of Customs and Rituals that had been set in place by the first Spirits, sent from the Heavens by the Gods themselves.

_I don't have a choice._

Well… he _did_, but not if he wanted to stop the Shadows before all of his kind was wiped from existence—and he had to move quickly, he sensed. Aterya had been right about one thing, at least: the Shadows were moving faster than before. Lyntar wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that Aterya had been understating things when he had claimed that they'd lost "five in the last moon".

The tally Lyntar had been keeping in his own head told him it was more like eight or _nine_ in the last moon, which only served to make the situation that much graver. There were only a limited number of Spirits in Valdemar as it was, and with them being snatched away by the Shadows that quickly…

His own thoughts began to get to him, and he snorted softly, though the sound was lost in the trees of the Pelagiris, along with his hoof beats, which were swallowed up by the leaves and moss of the forest floor.

_Where the hell did they all _come _from, anyway?_

It was a rhetorical question, of course, as he knew that none of the Spirits—the Elders included—knew where the Shadows had come from, or even what they _were_. They had simply _appeared_ one day, announcing their arrival with a swift and silent attack on one of the young stallions—and he had vanished, never to be seen or heard from again.

Indeed, none of those who were taken by Them were seen again.

Some of the Spirits, Avalbane included, held out a hope that they were all out there somewhere, imprisoned by alive and relatively well… but privately, though he never would have said so to his friend, Lyntar was sure that they who had been taken were no longer a part of the land of the living.

It was something that very few of his comrades knew, but his Mind was one of the most powerful among them. Though he was not, and would never be, one of the Elders, he easily rivalled their mental powers, and even surpassed a few of them, Aterya included.

The reason his reverence for Aterya was so little was probably related to that fact. But the major source of his lack of respect—not just for Aterya, but for all of the Elders—was that they saw what was going on in the forest, they saw their people dying, heard their screams for help and for mercy—they saw it all, and yet refused to do anything.

Lyntar… he had heard it all, too. His mind was powerful enough that he could Mindtouch anyone within the boundaries of Valdemar—and even, occasionally, some who were just beyond the borders.

And Sashara and the others…

_I'm sorry Val… but they aren't coming back._

They had all _vanished_, not just physically, but mentally as well. It wasn't just their bodies which had been taken. They had not been kidnapped. They could not be rescued later, after the tide of the Shadows had ebbed.

No.

Their minds, their thoughts, their very _being_ had sputtered and died, fading into the night only moments after each of them had been taken, and Lyntar had felt it, deep inside of himself.

And, subsequently, made a very rash vow to stop the killings. For that was what they were: killings. And the Elders seemed unable—or unwilling—to do anything about it. Surely, they, who were so close to the Gods themselves, would be able to find some way of stopping the Shadows? Apparently not.

His mind growled at the thought, and he clamped down on the anger: for when his emotions became overwhelming, he tended to broadcast his feelings across the Forest, and he needed to leave without alerting anyone. The broadcasting was a part of his enhanced mental powers, and something that he could control to an extent, but occasionally had trouble with.

This was because, he had been told when the Elders realized his potential, he was a normal Spirit, not born with the power of an Elder, and the normal Spirit's bodies were not built to house the kind of mental energy his did. It was only natural that it should get out of hand on occasion.

Now, he used the fact that his mind was as advanced as it was to his favour, scrying outward, even as he continued to run, to Search for the other mind—the one that he had found so long before, and been following with his own.

It was a special mind, like his own in many ways, and yet unlike his in just as many. Female, too. The mind belonged to a human girl, he could tell, and the power that was dormant in the relatively mundane thoughts was enough to make even his considerable power bow before it.

He needed her.

And he was going to find her, whether the Elders wanted him to or not.

_:Wait__ for me.:_ He said, to no one in particular, _:together, we will do great things.:_

o-o-o-o-o

It had been a productive day, she supposed, as she sat with her back against the trunk of one of the huge trees, which grew on the outskirts of the city and continued on into the seemingly endless Pelagiris forest. She was relatively happy and relatively comfortable, which wasn't the norm for her everyday life, but did happen occasionally.

Bri treasured moments like this one, when she could relax without the fear of being caught "shirking" and just pretend that she was a normal teenager with normal worries. Unfortunately, it was also moments like this that gave her mind the time to go over the day, and usually a horrible feeling of self-loathing followed the reminder of the disgusting things she had been required to do.

Now, she tried to shut her brain off all together and just enjoy the fading light of the day for a few minutes.

She would have to go back soon. Her shift had started only a short time before, and after she had finished with the first customer of the night she had remained behind in the secluded clearing where she had serviced him. The Master wouldn't think her late if she stayed for only a short time, but he wasn't stupid. He had her practically timed, and if she took too long she could expect him to send someone out after her.

Sighing somewhat contentedly, Bri settled back against the tree, resting her head against the moss-covered trunk and closing her eyes.

Though she never would have admitted it, she was tired. Physically as well as mentally and emotionally, and considering her profession she was beginning to honestly wonder if she would ever manage to find someone who loved her.

She wasn't talking about love in the physical sense. In fact, she couldn't care less if she ever shared her bed with someone again—she'd had enough of that sort of thing to last her a lifetime. Instead, what she found herself craving was the kind of emotional closeness that was _not_ part and parcel with the job she had.

Bri wanted someone to love, and who would love her back, unconditionally.

_Keep dreaming, Brianna Osias._ Her mind snorted, _you're nothing but a whore. A first-class one, I'll grant you, but a whore nonetheless-_

The annoying voice, which seemed to be a part of her and yet not, and was constantly in her head with her, was interrupted by the sound of hoof beats on the grass, and her eyes opened.

The rider slowed as he approached the clearing, and the beats slowed with him.

Bri resigned herself to the inevitable. She hadn't _thought_ she was that late, but who could tell with the Master? He may have decided he needed her back right away, or the man who had brought here to the clearing in the first place might have swung back by the inn, in which case the Master would know immediately that she was skipping out.

In any event, he had obviously sent—

An equine snort, slightly to her left, made her blink and turn her head, nearly bumping into the muzzle of a horse, which took up nearly all of her vision. Snorting again, gently, it lipped her cheek.

Bri's brows furrowed, as she looked past the soft white nose—

—into—

_Gods!_

A Spirit.

She was looking at a Spirit.

Scrambling backward, she couldn't help the gasp that escaped from her lips, and at the sound the ethereal being whickered, sounding remarkably like it was laughing at her. She was almost annoyed, but…

It tilted its head, regarding her with one huge blue eye, and seemed to be looking straight _through_ her, somehow.

Bri, for her part, couldn't seem to move at all.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the creature stepped forward once again, its eyes still focused solely on her, to stop only a step or two away from her. And then, remarkably, in the back of her mind, a wonderful tenor of a male voice echoed—

_:Hello__ Brianna. I am Lyntar… and you are my Chosen.:_

She could barely move, and had stopped breathing all together, pinned in place by the sheer power and strength of feeling beyond the sapphire of Its eyes. Slowly, she could feel her lung begin to ache, clawing at her in a desperate attempt to beg for oxygen, but she just… couldn't…

Oh, Gods, it didn't make sense!

She wasn't a Trainee. She wasn't highborn. She wasn't even remotely _pure_—not compared to those who were normally chosen to train, in any case. She wasn't anything! And she certainly wasn't on a Hunt—Spirits weren't supposed to show themselves to mortals, unless said mortal was on his or her Hunt.

So why, of all people, would It show Itself to her?

Spirits were supposed to selectively pick out the best people in the country, and she couldn't even boast being—

_:I__ suppose you're going to start babbling about how you're not worthy, now?:_

She blinked, surprised, but couldn't get her mouth to move and form a response, and the suffocating feeling was beginning to become overwhelming. Bri wondered, fleetingly, if people actually _did_ turn blue, or if she would just die on the spot.

_:I__ certainly hope not.:_ The Spirit snorted, sounding both annoyed and amused, _:because then I'd have wasted a trip.:_


	3. Everything You Know Is Wrong

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** Emeli Melquiades "Mel" Truant belongs to Dawn, and so does her Companion, Arlam. Mel is the kind of person who is a great friend, but you don't want her as an enemy, and Arlam may or may not be shaych.

**Notes:** I've got too many different things I want to do in this fic, and if I don't write them all down, I'm going to forget half of them until it's way too late. Oh, and just in case anyone was interested, I decided that the Opening Theme to this fic is "I'm Still Here" by John Rzeznik and the Ending Theme is "Always Know Where You Are" by BBMak.

**IN DREAMS  
Chapter Two: Everything You Know Is Wrong  
By Senashenta  
**

Leshie woke to Aimee snuffling in her hair and the sound of hooves on cobblestones, approaching from down the road. Instantly, she was sitting up and shoving the palfrey's nose out of the way, already reaching for her rapier, which was carefully lying next to her bedroll.

Her heart was instinctively in her throat, her fears of bandits coming to the surface of her mind, though they were completely unbidden. Once her hand was clamped on the hilt of her sword, she felt minutely better, though, and when she was on her feet instead of sitting, better still.

In fact…

Her eyes went to Aimee, though her ears remained trained on the sounds of the approaching rider, and her heartbeat immediately began to return to normal—the horse wasn't remotely upset. Indeed, she was standing calmly, her tail swishing, taking the occasional mouthful of grass and in general being amiable.

Her trust in animals made Leshie relax, though she wasn't completely off guard. She had been raised around horses, after all, and from her experience they could tell danger was coming when it was still far, far away.

Aimee wasn't worried, so she probably didn't have to be either, and again, Leshie was glad she had the palfrey with her. Though she kept her hand on the sword, she returned to the ground, sitting cross-legged now, and listening intently as the hoof beats drew closer. They had an odd ring to them, lighter and more musical than any she had heard before, even among the highly sought and perfectly bred palfrey horses of the Rakmour stables.

_There's no wagon, so it couldn't be a Clydesdale or any other heavy breed. Maybe a thoroughbred, but it doesn't sound like any I've ever heard. Certainly not a palfrey... _Tilting her head to the side, she went through the rolodex of horse breeds in her head, but couldn't pinpoint the sound of the hooves. _I guess I'm not the horse expert I thought I was..._

The single rider—at least she was sure of that much—was approaching from the direction she had ridden, and she had to wonder why anyone would still be traveling, in the dead of night. Certainly no one would want to do so, unless they had somewhere urgent to be…

_What if…_ Panic suddenly flooded her veins again, and she leapt to her feet for a second time, this time scrambling to strap her scabbard to her side. _My family… it might be them, and I can't let them find me, or—_

At the horizon, barely visible because of the shadows of the trees, the rider appeared, and Leshie paused again, her frantic attempts to escape slowing when she realized that none of the horses at the Rakmour Holdings were _that_ wonderful, shining shade of silver-white.

Nor, she noted as it drew closer, did any of them have such beautiful blue eyes—

_Oh._

She blinked semi-blankly when the realization sunk in, and was still standing, staring in surprise when the Herald and his Companion stopped in front of her, looking at her curiously. When she didn't utter so much as an _eep_ to recognize their arrival (though Aimee raised her head from the grass to regard them with huge doe eyes), they seemed to exchange glances, and the Herald cleared his throat.

"Huh?" The sound brought Leshie back to reality, and she realized she was still clutching a half-buckled scabbard, staring, without blinking, at the brilliant and ethereal white former-Spirit that had paused on the road only a few feet away. "Oh, uh…"

The Herald raised an eyebrow, "are you alright?"

After another moment of tongue-tied silence, Leshie managed; "uh… yeah. Yes, I'm fine, Herald…"

"Gabriel." He supplied, then tipped his head to the side. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No. Just… sleeping."

What was wrong with her? She was saying the stupidest things she had ever said in her life! Her mind cringed at the thought that she probably sounded like the airheaded court-dwellers she so despised. Still, she had never been so close to a Companion before… sighing, she shook her head, even as Herald Gabriel gave her an odd look.

"Well, I _was_." She clarified, her hands automatically moving to finish buckling her rapier to her hip, "but I woke up when I heard you coming. That, and Aimee poked her horsey nose into my face."

Gabriel chuckled, then; "may I ask why you're sleeping on the side of the road?"

"I have nowhere else to sleep," Leshie shrugged, trying to look as if she didn't care either way. "I'm on my way to Haven, and didn't manage to reach an inn before the sun went down."

"Ah." He hesitated, absently rubbing at the reign that was hooked into his Companion's hackamore—Leshie noted with interest that it _was not_ a bridle, and in no way confined her—before offering; "we were just heading up the road. There's a waystation there, if you'd like to join us." Pausing, he added; "it would be much safer than sleeping in the open like that."

Leshie considered. She had been dong fine, but still had her doubts about camping on the road. Besides, she knew that Heralds could be trusted. If they couldn't, they wouldn't have been chosen to train, never mind Chosen by a Companion. She glanced up at the Herald, and her eyes drifted to the Companion and back to him once more.

She could trust them, she was sure of it.

And Aimee was even more relaxed than she had been before their arrival, so…

Her horse's seeming acceptance of them sealed the deal, and she nodded shortly, after which Herald Gabriel instantaneously slipped from his Companion's back and landed lightly on the ground to help her gather her sleeping roll and other miscellaneous things.

Leshie found herself smiling at his presence.

It had obviously been far too long since she was in the company of an actual _person_, as opposed to the oh-so-wonderful courtiers and politicians that her family had cavorted with all of her life. In fact, the Herald reminded her of Finlay for some strange reason that she couldn't really ascertain.

_Strange…_

o-o-o-o-o

_:Bri, just come down, please?:_

Ignoring the tired-sounding plea, Bri clamped her pillow over her head and shut her eyes tightly. Beyond the window of the bedroom she shared with three of the other girls in the brothel, the ghostly shape of a Spirit—no, a _Companion_ now—stood in the path of a moonbeam, staring up at the shutters, his crystal eyes showing his frustration and annoyance as he attempted to talk some sense into the girl he had just Chosen.

_:Look, I'm not leaving until you come down.:_

Nothing.

Bri wished vehemently that the stallion would just go away, and she wasn't sure why.

_:Bri?:_

He couldn't just waltz into her life, dazzle her into submission and then expect her to follow him obediently!

_:Do you want me to camp out here? Because I will!:_

…could he?

She wasn't sure. In fact, she was about as confused as she could possibly be, and the nagging mental voice wasn't helping her work things out. Instead, it was just making things more complicated for her, as the feeling of being wanted… of being _loved_… really loved… for the first time in years—it echoed in her head along with the words that the Companion was speaking.

_:Okay, fine.:_ Stamping a hoof angrily, Lyntar planted his feet firmly in the ground, the effect of which was to give off an air that would have made any onlookers think immediately of a stubborn mule. _:I'm making myself comfortable now!:_ Not quite the truth, but not really a lie either as Companions could sleep just as well standing as they could lying down. _:I'm just going to stay here and bask in the moonlight and wait, and then when you have to get up and go out tomorrow I'll be here, just staring back at you, and _then—_oh, will you feel silly!:_

That part, he doubted, as she was still ignoring him and it was actually _him_ who was feeling distinctly foolish. Not that he intended to go anywhere, because, feeling foolish or not, he wasn't leaving until she was seated firmly on his back.

_She's just as stubborn as me._

The thought was simultaneously amusing and embarrassing, and he shook his head, his mane flopping from one side of his neck to the other, then flicked his tail and looked around. His survey of the surrounding area proved to yield—well, nothing. It still looked the same as it had two candlemarks before, when Bri had dashed from the forest to her room, slammed and locked the door, and adamantly refused to come out.

He was a bit confused by her reaction to his Choice.

Just a tiny bit.

Blowing a breath out of his nose, he turned his eyes back to the window, and decided to try again; _:Bri, what's wrong? You don't want me? I Chose you because… because we _fit_, and there's no one else…:_

Abruptly, the shutters swung open, and before he could unlock his legs and step to the side, a bucketful of water sloshed from inside the inn to splash down on his shoulders, soaking him from forelock to fetlock and leaving him sputtering quite indignantly.

_:What in the _nine hells_—?!:_

"Listen, _you_!" Bri's voice called in a harsh whisper from the now-open window, as he attempted to see her past his mane, which was plastered to his forehead and getting rather annoyingly in the path of his vision. "You can't just… just _show up_ and turn my life upside down… and… you _can't_!" Flustered, she slammed she shutters closed again, leaving Lyntar to stare after her in amazement.

What had just happened?

Behind the again-closed shutters, he could hear vague muttered complaints from the other occupants of the room, and had to assume that the three other girls had gotten a confusing and somewhat rude awakening when the shutters had been _thrown_ open. They probably wanted to know what Bri had thought she was doing.

He knew how they felt.

Snorting to her the water out of his nostrils, he snuffled for a moment and then shook to get at least some of the water from his hide and hair before settling again and gazing up at the window once more.

She obviously wasn't planning on coming out any time soon.

Lyntar wondered how many more buckets of water she had in store for him, but even though he dreaded what may happen, he tentatively reached his mind out and touched hers once more.

Confusion and angst, predictably, reigned in her thoughts.

_:Can I ask you something?:_

A long pause, followed by, not mindspeech but something very similar; _what?_

_:Why don't you want to leave? You hate your life here.:_

Though the words weren't actually there, he got a complex sending of feelings and images, indignation prominent among them, and knew what her response was without her having spoken it; _that isn't the point._

_:Listen… I can take you away from here. To the Collegium in Haven, and you'll never have to sell yourself again, for any reason. You'll have real friends… and you'll have __me.__:_ Along with that, he sent a pulse of something akin to love to her. _:I'm not going anywhere, so think about it, okay? Just think about it.:_

Silence.

_Fine._

It was the best answer he could hope for, given the circumstances, and he sighed. _:Goodnight, Chosen.:_

It was going to be a very long night indeed.

o-o-o-o-o

She loved the outdoor air, and the air in the Pelagiris seemed to be the best of all. Whether she was approached by a Spirit on her Hunt or not, Mel Truant was determined to make the most of the excursion, and had no intention of doing anything other than enjoying herself.

In fact, the Hunt be damned! If a Spirit came to her, all the better, but she wasn't about to go out of her way trying to find one. From what she'd heard, they were thinking, coherent, rational and sentient beings. Let one search for _her_ if it wanted her so badly.

Pleased with her decision, Mel crossed her arms behind her head and started up at the stars, letting her mind wander over the previous months, leading to her Hunt in general. Mostly, she was trying to decide what she was going to do when she went back to Haven—she hadn't seen her family in a while, so she might go and visit them.

Or, since she had all the training already, she might see about joining up with the Guard and getting shipped out to the border to see about keeping the Karsites from getting their greedy fire-loving hands on anything belonging to Valdemar… now _that_ was a good idea! She was about due for an adventure or two, after being cooped up in the Collegium for so long.

The stars twinkled merrily, agreeing with her.

Her arms uncrossed, and she absently toyed with the dagger from her belt. It was a habit she'd had for as long as she could remember, and had probably begun the day she'd been given the knife in the first place.

_If I go to the border, there's no guarantee I'll see action._

Her lips pursed, and her mind traversed to paths to her other main option, and one that she had considered quite a few times in the past. Her mother was a mercenary, after all… what was wrong with her being one, too?

Mel grinned despite herself.

As a merc, she would get all the action she wanted, and get paid for it as well. It seemed like a good plan, though one that may have been a bit harder to put into action than the one that involved the Valdemarian Guard: to be a successful mercenary, the first thing you needed to do was build a reputation, and that would be the hard part. Especially as she was a girl. It was always harder for girl.

_Damnable male-oriented society._

For a moment, she stewed in that thought, then snorted and banished it, going back to playing with her dagger and thinking, though now she began carving initials into the trunk of the tree she was camped under.

E.M.T.

She'd be a part of the forest forever, now.

A truly interesting idea.

_:You know,:_ a voice said abruptly, sounding in her head and making her drop her knife in surprise, _:I really don't think the tree appreciates it's new tattoo as much as you seem to.:_

Mel glanced around warily, but saw no one. "Who's there?"

To the right, a silver blur manifested from the shadows, and the horse-shaped being regarded her curiously. _:I have never understood you humans and your fascination with _claiming _things…:_

"Well what do you know." With a semi-smirk, Mel tucked her knife back into its rightful place on her belt and gave the Spirit an appraising look. It stared right back, but seemed a little surprised when she wasn't immediately awe struck at Its presence. "So I guess you're one of those Spirits, right?"

_:As far as I know.:_

"Do you all have a sense of humor, or is it just you?"

_:Some of us do.:_ It informed her pleasantly, _:though there are times that I would wonder about that statement.:_

"Ah." Shrugging, Mel scooted back a foot or two and dug in her pack for a moment, searching for—with a triumphant noise, she pulled a cloth-wrapped package from beneath a spare tunic, and opened it to reveal a half-loaf of bread, along with some cheese. She glanced up at the Spirit as she pulled a chunk of the bread off. "You probably don't eat bread, right?"

_:Really, I don't know. I'm not sure about Haven, but there are no such things as bread trees out here, and you really don't want to see something with hooves try to operate a baking oven.:_ Pausing, It added; _:basically, my diet consists of grass and… well… actually it just consists of grass.:_

"So you're a vegetarian."

_:It probably has something to do with being a horse.:_

Mel nodded and chewed a bit of bread thoughtfully. "Feel like trying something new?"

Its tail flicked and Its ears turned forward as It eyed her food. _:If I go over there, will I be safe or will you try to carve your name into my rump with that wonderful knife of yours? I only ask because blood is _incredibly _hard to get out of silver hair.:_ He continued with, _:especially if you have no hands.:_

She shrugged again. "I guarantee nothing."

_:Oh.: _

Mel got the idea that It didn't really care if she carved It up or not, and judging by the curious and intent way It was watching her eat, she figured It was probably just about _dying_ of curiosity. She was proven right when It sniffed experimentally and then wandered forward—nonchalantly, yeah right—until It was standing next to her.

Without a word, she broke another hunk of bread from the loaf and held it up, not even glancing at the Spirit as she did so. The only reason she knew It took the tidbit from her was because one second it was there and the next it was gone. Also, she could hear It chewing experimentally.

_:Strange.:_

"You don't like it?"

_:I didn't say that…:_

Silently, Mel held up another piece. "I'm Emeli Melquiades Truant, by the way."

_:I'm Arlam.:_ It—_he_, she supposed—told her, still munching quite happily and sounding more than a bit distracted as he continued with a statement that made her raise an eyebrow sardonically. _:Did I mention that I Choose bread?:_

o-o-o-o-o

Lyntar's head drooped and his eyes closed for a moment, then he jerked himself awake again with a snort to continue his vigil outside of the "inn". Privately, he couldn't believe the man who ran it would have the nerve to call it that—it gave the impression that it was a respectable establishment, which, he very adamantly assured himself, it most certainly was _not_.

Sighing, he shifted his weight and glanced toward the still-tightly-shuttered window. When he had asked Avalbane to cover for him, he hadn't expected to spend more time waiting for a stubborn human to actually _think_ about the situation she had currently in then he did finding her in the first place. He wondered briefly if the Elders had realized he was gone or not.

_I should check, just in case._ He stamped restlessly, _and Bri doesn't show any signs of even _considering _coming out of there any time soon, so it's not like I've got anything better to do…_

He was also insanely bored, which only gave him further motivation to contact his friend and ask about the Elders, and after only a moment's more consideration he reached with his mind and, when he found Avalbane's consciousness, poked it rather unceremoniously, making the other stallion utter a string of curses that spanned several different human languages.

_:Why Val,:_ he said, snickering, _:did you kiss your mother will that mouth when you were a human?:_

Avalbane's response carried a mixture of annoyance and surprise, the later of which was left over from Lyntar's abrupt appearance in his head. _:You jackass, I've never been a human in _any _of my lives and you know it.:_ Lyntar could just _see_ him shaking his head. _:Bright Lady, Lyn, you scarred me witless… where are you, anyway?:_

_:Doesn't matter.:_ Lyntar replied, probably too swiftly for Avalbane's liking, but he was less than enthusiastic about the idea of anyone knowing exactly how to find him. _:Have the Elders started after me, yet?:_

_:I don't think so, but I don't think they believed me when I said I hadn't seen you "lately".:_ The Spirit's mindvoice had taken on a somewhat dry tone by the end of that particular sentence, and Lyntar sent him an apologetic feeling, after which he continued; _:Aterya came by to ask about you, and when I told them that both he and Zeshawn took off. Brasen and Mattias didn't go with them, but I think if the other two don't find you soon they'll probably join in the hunt for you.:_

_:Beautiful.:_ Lyntar groaned.

All four of the Elders were after him now, which was the equivalent—as far as the Spirit and Companion communities were concerned—of having the Gods hounding at your heels. He had expected them to be angry, but not so angry that all _four_ of them might be prepared to leave the Pelagiris and to chase him down.

On the up side, they had yet to sick the entire Spirit population on him.

_Not that it won't come down to that if they think it has to._ He thought, then, _:alright. Just wanted to check, so—:_

"I'm ready to go now."

_:—huh?:_

At the other end of the temporary mental link he had established, Avalbane gave a sense of confused blinking, but Lyntar ignored him when he asked what the problem was, instead choosing to stare in surprise at Brianna, who had, miraculously, appeared in front of him while he was chatting with the other stallion.

_:Uh… what?:_

"Very intelligent." Bri told him sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She was holding a makeshift cloth bag, which looked to me made out of a sheet—or possibly a tablecloth—and now she crossed her arms. "I thought about what you said, and even if I'm not happy with you just _showing up_ out of nowhere and expecting me to go with you, I think I'd take _anything_ over this place, and that includes an obnoxious talking horse."

_:Obnoxious?:_ Lyntar repeated weakly.

She fixed a steady glare on him. "So let's go before I change my mind."

_:I—oh.:_

Considering the first few moments of their relationship, during which she had stared at him in shock, then shrieked and run off as if demons were licking at her heels the entire way, she really could be… forceful… when she wanted to. And that fact had taken the Companion completely off-guard, sneaking up when he wasn't looking and, well, throwing a bucket of water on him, for one thing.

Bri was still eyeing him semi-suspiciously, and his eyes flitted around as nervousness set it. He had Chosen her, because in his mind he had known she could help him, and the Choice had just felt _right_, and now he was beginning to wonder if his judgment had been—uh—premature. Certainly, he was very quickly coming to the conclusion that he was going to _avoid_ getting on her bad side, thank you very much.

_:Uh… Lyn? Are you okay? What's going on?:_

_:Val?:_ Lyntar had completely forgotten about his friend, having been too busy being shocked by Bri's abrupt and unexpected change of heart. Now, Avalbane's mind was poking at his in an attempt to ascertain whether he was alright or not. _:I'm… fine… I need to—:_

A sudden feeling made him pause, and even though Avalbane's questioning continued and Bri still glared at him, he focused on… _Gods. _ He recognized the feelings he was getting, and definitely recognized the minds from which they were coming. _Aterya and Zeshawn._

"Are we going or not?"

_:In a minute, Bri!:_ He snapped, making her blink. He hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but there were more important things for him to deal with at that particular moment. _:Val! I thought you said the Elders weren't coming after me yet!:_

_:They… aren't.:_ Avalbane sounded confused. _:Why—?:_

_:They _are_.:_ Lyntar corrected crossly, _:but I think I've got enough of a head start that I can get to the Collegia before they catch me.:_

_:Uh—:_

_:Bye, Val.:_

_:Lyn, you—:_

He didn't have time to continue to chat with the Spirit, whether he was an old friend or not, and slammed his Shields into place to block Avalbane from his thoughts. At the same time as he was going that, he stepped forward and less than gently shoved Bri in the direction of his back. He didn't know if she could ride without a saddle—he didn't know if she could ride at _all_.

_I guess I'm about to find out._

"Hey! You don't have to shove me, I'm moving as fast as—"

_:Would you just get the hell up onto my back?!:_

Though she wasn't pleased with the situation in general, the urgency in the Companion's voice seemed to get through to Bri, as she hurried to scramble onto his back and attempted to settle herself without the aid of a saddle to sit in or reigns to grasp. She hadn't ridden a horse in quite some time—since Hail, actually—but she figured she would get the hang of things relatively quickly once they actually got—

"_Ahh!_"

The utterly childish scream sounded when Lyntar spun quickly, nearly throwing her from his back in the process, and raced away from the brothel, his hooves connecting roughly with the hard-packed dirt of the yard and then ringing loudly on the cobblestone road that would, eventually, lead them to Haven.

o-o-o-o-o

The waystaton was a lot more comfortable than the ground, Leshie decided, as she stared vaguely into the fireplace, where flames licked at a the few chunks of wood they had tossed in nearly a candlemark before. Across the tiny building, Gabriel was digging through the supplies that were stocked in barrels along the wall, trying to find something to cook for them to eat.

Leshie had tried to convince him that cooking for her wasn't necessary, but after he found out she hadn't eaten since the prior morning, he had insisted. Now, she was trying to decide if she was going to ask him about his uniform or not: he wasn't wearing the Whites that she was _sure_—or, relatively sure—were normal for Heralds. Instead, he was clad in a pale silver-gray color.

_Why would a Herald be wearing gray instead of white?_

Her lips pursed and she sighed softly, casting a glance toward the doorway. There was no actual _door_ in it, though, and beyond it she could see Gabriel's Companion grazing silently in the patch of grass that served for a yard. Aimee was tethered nearby so she wouldn't wander off, though Gabriel had assured her that if she did the Companion would bring her back, or at least tell them so _they_ could do it.

"Well," finally the Herald sat back on his heels and turned to look at her. "I think we're stuck with oat porridge, but at least there's some dried apple to add to it." Leshie opened her mouth to say something, but he didn't let her speak. "And don't even think about saying you don't need to eat, because you _do_." He grinned, "besides, _I_ haven't eaten today, either, and I'm hungry even if you aren't."

"Hn." She shrugged, "fine."

"Good."

Satisfied that he had dissuaded her arguments, he set about pouring water into a pot and hanging it over the crackling fire, and Leshie returned her eyes to the open doorframe and the ghostly shape beyond. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" He looked up abruptly, causing his pale brown hair to fall into his eyes, "uh, sure."

"Why aren't you in your Whites?"

He laughed at that, making Leshie look at him in surprise, and his green eyes sparkled as he replied. "Probably because I don't have them." And at her bewildered expression, he shook his head, "I'm not a Herald yet… I'm just on my way back to Haven from my Hunt, and that was where I met Niressa. She just wandered up and introduced herself… which reminds me," he tipped his head to the side, and though he had been dicing the dried apples into pieces, his hands slowed, "I still don't know _your_ name, do I?"

"No?" Leshie couldn't remember telling him her name, now that she thought about it, but somehow it hadn't seemed important. And, truth to tell, if he hadn't offered his name when they had first met she probably wouldn't have thought to ask for _it_, either. "I'm Leshie Rakmour."

"Gabriel Maxwell," he grinned and went back to working on the food, "and my Companion is Niressa, like I said."

"The horse is Aimee." She said vaguely, though it was an unimportant detail.

"She's lovely. I can definitely see why the Rakmour horses are so popular." There was a moment of silence as he added oats and apple bits to the now-boiling water, and then arranged himself cross-legged beside her in front of the hearth. "So tell me, Leshie Rakmour, why are you and Aimee heading to Haven?"

She had been keeping her plans to leave for Haven a secret for so long that she surprised herself when she stated the truth simply and without hesitation; "I'm going to join the Guard. Aimee's just along for the ride."

"A strange thing to say about a horse." Gabriel chuckled.

Leshie half-agreed, but figured it wasn't worth saying, so instead she remained quiet, still staring at the fire, above which the oat porridge was beginning to smell remarkably good. She must have been hungrier than she had originally thought. She glanced to the side at Gabriel for a moment, then caught herself and jerked her attention away.

Gabriel regarded her with amusement.

He was handsome, she decided, but a lot different from the boys she'd known at the Holdings. All of them either had the intellectual prowess of a mushroom or were, as with the women, completely brainless. Gabriel seemed particularly down to earth, which was probably what reminded her of Finlay. He had been well grounded as well.

"You know, I think I know some of your relatives."

"Huh?" She wasn't really surprised. The Rakmour name was fairly famous. Or _infamous_, depending on your outlook on it. "A lot of people know my family."

"Broderick Rakmour?"

"My older brother."

"Ah," he nodded, "he was a couple of years ahead of me in the training."

"Yeah. He's got a Companion now. He'll be a Herald soon."

"Who's his Companion?"

"Kitoko."

"I think I know her… does she have a foal?"

"Lewa." Leshie nodded, "she's a year old."

Gabriel smiled, "I was on foal-watch when Lewa was born. She's cute."

"Yes," Leshie agreed vaguely, "she is."

He regarded her with a slight frown and a bit of concern. "Is it just me, or do I sense bitterness when you talk about Broderick and Kitoko?" When she didn't reply, he wisely dropped the subject and went to check on the porridge. "I think this is done, if you'd get some bowls from the bin over there—"

She was more than happy to comply, as it gave her something to do to keep her mind off of… things. And while she rummaged through the bin he had directed her toward, she contemplated the oddness of… well, to be perfectly honest, her _comfort_. Up until he had asked her about her brother and his Companion (and her foal) she had been quite relaxed. She felt safe, which was nice considering she hadn't really felt that way since she had left the Holdings.

_I'm glad for his company._ She realized as she handed him the bowls, as well as spoons, that she had dug out, and then accepted a bowl of the plain but nourishing gruel he had concocted. _It's probably because he reminds me so much of Finlay._

As they ate, another companionable silence fell.

_I wonder how Sibley and Dolli are doing?_

The thought of her younger siblings sent her mind off in yet another direction—Sibley had been gone for two years, and Dolli had left only the previous spring, and since they had yet to complete their training, neither of them had managed to make it home for a visit since they'd left. Broderick, at least had managed to get permission to go home for Midwinter. Granted, it had only been once before he'd been Chosen, but he seemed to be able to visit more often now that he was through with his Hunt.

That was both a blessing and a curse, as Leshie enjoyed seeing him… but at the same time, seeing him with _Kitoko_ made her only too aware of her shortcomings, whatever they were, that had kept her from being taken into the Collegium herself.

"Your brother and sister…"

Leshie frowned and looked up from her porridge when Gabriel murmured the words under his breath. "Sorry?"

He shook his head, "you're sort of broadcasting your thoughts. Something about your younger brother and sister…"

"Just wondering how they are. I haven't seen either of them since they were taken into the Collegium for training." She played with her spoon, swirling it into the porridge and absently as Gabriel's head cocked and his eyes took on a vague look as he, she thought, conversed with his Companion. At least she knew that much from Broderick and Kitoko. "So what does Niressa have to say?"

He looked surprised, "how do you know—"

She could help but grin at his bewilderment: "I _do_ have a older brother who's going to be a Herald."

"Oh yeah. Uh… she says that Sibley is the top of his class in History and Dolli…" he laughed, "she can't ride a horse worth a damn, but she's determined to learn no matter how many times she falls off. Niressa hopes she manages it before she goes out on her Hunt, because she really feels like she'll be Chosen."

Somehow, it made her feel better to know that things hadn't changed _that_ much with them since they'd gone.

"Tell her I said thanks."

"Sure."

"Well," keeping hold on the bowl that contained the remains of her dinner—which was taking place far after midnight, incidentally—she stood and headed for the door. "I'm going to check on Aimee before I go to sleep. Do you think Niressa would like some porridge?"

"Probably." Gabriel agreed pleasantly.

"Alright, then."

As she vanished out the door, Niressa was already picking up her head and pacing over at the idea of a treat.

And Leshie was very much glad that she didn't have to travel alone anymore.


	4. Outside The Frame

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** Mirim "Miri" Crofter and her Companion, Tuuran & Herald Dillan and his Companion, Rella, belong to etcetera-cat, who was kind enough to help me fill out the Collegia a bit. Miri is the Collegium Orientations Instructor, Dillan teaches Trainees with Foresight, and Rella is Lyntar's aunt. Leftenant Malcam belongs to her, too, but he's only mentioned in this chapter.

**Notes:** On the Hunt: In the AU universe that In Dreams takes place in, there is no such thing as Companions going On Search. Instead, after several years of training (the number of which vary, depending on the circumstance) in the "general" classes (history, geography, law, religions, etc.) anyone who is a Collegium Trainee then goes into the Pelagiris Forest on their Hunt. This is a two-week camping trip of sorts which tests their knowledge of geography, as well as survival techniques, and if some time in those two weeks they are approached by a Spirit and Chosen, they become Heraldic Trainees and return to the Collegium for advanced law, equestrian and weapons training, as well as Gift training. At that point, the Spirit who Chose them becomes what they call a Companion. If said Collegium Trainees are _not_ Chosen by a Spirit, they go back to Haven and can either take a guaranteed position in the Valdemarian Guard or go back to their lives as already well-educated and trained young men or woman. Generally, there are two or three Trainees Chosen each Hunt Season.

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter Three: Outside The Frame  
By Senashenta  
**

_:What__ do you think of our new traveling companion?:_

Niressa's ears swivelled and she considered before answering. _:She's__ a bit complex.:_

_:That__ she is.:_ Gabriel's eyes flicked to the girl who was riding next to him, and he sighed. He _thought_ that he liked her, but there was a lot that he didn't know about her, besides the fact that her name was Leshie and she wanted to join the Guard. As things currently stood, he had quite a few questions nagging at the back of his mind about her.

_:Like__ why a fifteen year old member of the Rakmour family would want to join the common Valdemarian Guard?:_ Niressa suggested.

_:Exactly__.:_

From what he'd heard of them, the Rakmours were the most wealthy and influential group of people in Valdemar, aside from the Montenegro family, of course. But you couldn't really compare anyone to royalty, anyway. Why would anyone want to leave a life of comfort and riches to join the Guard and spend the rest of their days fighting for their life and occasionally living on nothing but stale bread?

_:You__ have a shortsighted idea of what it's like to be rich, Chosen.:_ The now-Companion snorted lightly, and beside them Leshie's palfrey nickered in return. _:That's__ not to say you're entirely wrong, but having been born into wealth isn't necessarily a good thing. In the case of the Rakmours, it doesn't mean a guaranteed life of luxury, either. They work hard for what they have. The horses don't breed and train _themselves,_ after all.:_ After a moment's pause, during which Gabriel could have _sworn_ she was projecting an air of triumph, she added;_ :besides, Miss Rakmour here doesn't seem to fit the definition of a courtier.:_

_:Touché__.:_ Gabriel raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly and stared absently down at Niressa's ears. _:She__ certainly was pretty touchy about Broderick, though.:_

_:And__ that has to do with our conversation, how?:_

He gave a little mental shrug, _:I just noticed.:_

It was an understatement of the biggest kind, as Niressa already knew. Though he had yet to be trained in using his Gifts, which were only just beginning to emerge, he had very definitely felt a negative reaction to his questions about her brother. From what he could tell, she was either on the outs with him, or jealous about the fact he was Chosen to begin with. The later was possible, he knew, as he had encountered quite a few people who were jealous of _him_, since he'd been taken into the Collegium.

It seemed strange, though, that someone so strong would allow herself to be upset by something so simple.

_:You've__ noticed a _lot _of things about her.:_ Niressa said smugly, and Gabriel glared at the back of her head. _:Well__, at least I know you're not shaych.:_

_:Who__ ever said I was?:_ He sent back, annoyed.

The thing was, Niressa had made a point, even if she hadn't been trying to. Despite the fact that he felt toward her as he would toward a sister (had he had one), he actually knew very little about her. Almost nothing, in fact, as he had only met her two days prior to meeting Leshie on the road.

Why was it, then, that he wondered about Leshie more than he wondered about Niressa?

_:Because__ you're a teenage boy and I'm not the same species as you?:_

_:Thank__ you for that.:_

Niressa snickered mentally, and Gabriel rolled his eyes before turning his thoughts inward once more. This time, however, they drifted in a wayward fashion toward his Hunt, which was—thankfully—over and done with.

Not that he hadn't enjoyed spending nearly two weeks on his own in the middle of the Pelagiris Forest, scrounging for food (as his rations hadn't lasted long) and trying desperately to light a fire before giving up and sleeping without one—then having to explain just _why_ he looked a bit more than worn when the talking horse he now called Niressa had wandered into his life.

_:I'm__ not a horse, as I've told you before.:_

He'd heard that before, and as usual he paid very little attention to her semi-serious complaint—if she had _really_ minded, he would have attempted to think of her differently. The problem was that it was hard for him to get past the oh-so-horselike way she looked, though he figured that would come in time.

_:True__,:_ Niressa conceded, _:but do try to hurry through the Talking Horsey stage, will you?:_

_:I'll__ give it a shot.:_ Gabriel agreed.

_:Thank__ you, Love.:_

He marvelled at how quickly she became nothing less than sweetness and light when she got what she wanted. At least he knew that much about her… that, and she had an affinity with sugar of any kind, as evidenced by her devouring of several handfuls of sugar cubes, given to her by the children at the first town they'd stopped in on the way back to Haven. Had they brought her pies and cakes as well, he had no doubt she would have nearly choked in her hurry to down them.

_:I do believe that's called 'exaggeration'.:_ She told him somewhat crossly, _:I know better than to eat _that_ fast.:_ And after a moment she added sheepishly, _:if I choke, then I can't finish my food.:_

_:You're__ going to way a ton after two weeks at Haven.:_

_:Given that from what I've heard the Companions eat grain and oats and all sorts of yummy stuff,:_ she said happily, _:that is a very real possibility.:_

She certainly did switch moods quickly, he noted.

_Just my luck to be Chosen by the world's only bipolar Spirit._

Niressa snorted irritably and tossed her head, her gait changing from smooth to more than a bit uncomfortable in a matter of seconds, then settling back again as she sighed. _:Not__ the only one, __Chosen, just the most obvious one.:_ She tilted her head, then, to look at Leshie and Aimee. _:She__ has quite a horse, you know, to be able to keep up with me all day.:_

And so, his thoughts returned to the girl who now rode silently at his side, and after a moment, during which he stared at her as his mind skipped off in various directions, she turned toward him to give him an odd look. Caught with his eyes still trained on her, he shook his head in embarrassment and returned his gaze to the road ahead.

She said nothing about it, though, despite the raised eyebrow she had bestowed upon him, and the quiet continued, though now with Niressa chortling in amusement, her mindvoice echoing faintly in the back of his skull.

o-o-o-o-o

She tossed her head, she flicked her tail, and she danced in place for a split second before planting her feet firmly in the ground and adamantly _refusing _to move beyond where she currently was.

Dragan laughed, and his grip on the reign tightened. "Just go, Cheyne."

_:I__ most certainly will not!:_

Shaking his head, he chuckled again, "I didn't know it was possible for a Spirit to have a phobia."

_:Well__ it is!:_ Snorting nervously, she pawed the ground and eyed the stream in front of her. _:That thing is a death trap waiting to happen.:_

Amused. "I really don't see how."

_:Haven't__ you ever heard of drowning?!:_

"It's not likely to happen in a five-inch-deep stream, if you're walking… and come to think of it, how do you _drink_?"

Cheyne's tail flicked again. _:I__ can _drink _just fine… I just don't like crossing rivers, okay?:_

"Uh…"

Dragan eyed the trickle of water that was a few feet ahead of them, and shook his head sadly, reaching up to rub his right temple—it wasn't a river, it was a stream. And it was barely deep enough to even _qualify_ as that. Still, the Spirit-turned-Companion showed no intention of moving under her own free will, at least not if it was _toward_ the stream.

"Why don't we try going around it?"

_:That__ could take days!:_ Cheyne wailed pathetically.

"Then cross it."

She hesitated, _:but__—:_

"If you don't face your fear, you'll never—"

_:Dragan__ Fulton! Don't you think I've been told that before?:_ The Companion demanded, _:I have! By everyone and their brother, in fact—that doesn't change the fact that I can't cross this damn river!:_

"It's barely a trickle—"

_:It's_huge_! Are you blind?!:_

He didn't think that was his problem. _His_ problem was that his Companion couldn't cross a little stream—_:it's a freaking torrent!:_—of water, which meant that they either had to go around, which, as Cheyne had pointed out, could take days, or just stay and live out their lives in the middle of the forest.

He had to wonder how she had managed to survive so long, considering her terror when it came to water of any kind.

"Excuse me, sir?" He murmured sarcastically under his breath, "there seems to be something wrong with my Companion. Could I have a new one, please?"

Her voice rose a pitch. _:I_heard_ that!:_

o-o-o-o-o

"I'm tired, Lyntar."

The complaint wasn't unjustified, though Lyntar wasn't happy to hear it. He was tired as well—both emotionally and physically—but resting would mean stopping, and he could still feel the minds of Aterya and Zeshawn behind them—and they were _not_ pleased, either.

_Not that I expected them to be singing my praises, exactly. I _did _go against everything we Spirits have ever done._ After a moment of thought, his mind conceded, _not Spirits, silly horse. You're a Companion, now._

It was a strange idea, but one he wasn't altogether unpleased with.

"Hey." Bri smacked his neck and he flinched. "Are you playing attention?"

_:Yes__,:_ he said shortly, then; _:but we can't stop yet.:_

She heaved a sigh and shifted on his back, her grip on his mane tightening until she had regained her center of balance, and while she did, Lyntar concentrated on the Elders behind them. Aterya and Zeshawn were gaining on them, and though he was tired and now knew that Bri was as well, he was also aware of the fact that he couldn't stop. If he stopped, the Elders would overtake them shortly, and he didn't intend to face any other Spirits—Companions—until they were well within the boundaries of Haven.

_:You__ know, you called me Lyntar.:_

Bri seemed surprised, and though she had purposely and successfully avoided any kind of small talk thus far, she broke her relative silence to snort at his comment, "so? It's your name, isn't it?"

_:But__ it's the first time that you've called me anything other than a "horse".:_ He reminded her dryly, _:you could also call me "Lyn" if you wanted. It's what Val and the others used to call me.__:_

Her reply was just as dry, though with a touch of curiosity. "And who's Val?"

At least she was talking to him now. _:Avalbane.:_ He clarified, _:a friend of mine from the Pelagiris.:_

"Another Spirit?"

_:Yes__.:_

"Do you know anyone who's _not _a Spirit?"

_:You__.:_ Lyntar shrugged, his hide rippling, _:and a few of the Companions at the Collegium used to be my friends. My aunt, Rella, is there, as well. Besides that, I know one or two _kyree_, though not many, and even a _ratha_. The Spirits of the Pelagiris are also in contact with several _dyheli _herds around Velgarth, though none of them are in Valdemar.:_

"Dyheli?"

_:They're__… sort of similar to deer, in the same way we're similar to horses.:_

"Oh? Are they annoying, too?"

Lyntar rolled his eyes, and Bri returned to silence.

In the background of his mind, he continued to track the Elders as they followed him, and though he wasn't encouraged by the speeds at which they were going, he also wasn't _too_ worried, as he didn't think they would follow him beyond the borders of Haven. Mostly, this was because they were Legendary, and no humans knew of them. Aterya and the others were concerned enough with the Customs that they wouldn't _really_ risk being seen.

At the same time, from what he was sensing, they were a little more than annoyed with him—if they were upset enough, they would and could throw Custom to the wind and chase him down.

Though, as he recalled, they always had a representative in Haven. If he was remembering right, it was currently Yauvani… but he had never paid very much attention to those types of conversations, so he wasn't sure.

_I wish my attention span was a bit better._ He thought with a mental sigh.

Though the Spirit representative in Haven wasn't an Elder, he—or, currently _she_—would be more than willing to step in on their behalf. And he had known Yauvani before she Chose and her Chosen was taken on as the King's Own. She had been stubborn, opinionated, and so set in the Old Ways that she bordered on preaching every time someone even _mentioned_ going against them.

And Lyntar hadn't just talked about it…

He loathed to think what was waiting for him at the Collegium.

Still, he was determined to go—he always finished what he started, after all.

_Ye Gods, Val was right. I_ am _a glutton for punishment._

"Hey."

Was Bri speaking to him again? His surprise was slight enough, thankfully, that the lapse between her catching his attention and him answering was slight enough to be relatively unnoticeable. Or, even if it _wasn't_, she was kind enough not to bring it to glaring attention, as she had with any other discretion since they'd met.

_:Yes__?:_

She was leaning forward on his back, which, though it was a bit odd, didn't surprise him as her speaking had: he knew now that she was a decent rider, which was something he had been concerned about. She wasn't the _best_ rider, but she was staying on his back relatively well, which was all he'd hoped for. Where she'd learned to ride, he didn't know and hadn't asked.

"Is that another Spirit up ahead?"

_:Huh__?:_

He blinked and squinted into the distance. It couldn't be Aterya and Zeshawn, could it? He had thought the Elders were behind them, and considering the strength of his mind he doubted they could have tricked him. Still, he was concerned… until his eyes focused on the other equine well enough that he could see the rider on its back.

None of the Elders would have tolerated a human riding them.

Come to think of it, he noted, and glanced around at the trees, it _was_ about time for the Hunt Season, and as the rider wasn't wearing the traditional Heraldic Whites, or even the Heraldic Trainee Grays, he had to assume it was someone who was only just returning to Haven from the Pelagiris. That would explain why they were going in the same direction as he and Bri, anyway.

_:It's__ someone Newly-Chosen.:_ He told Bri absently, then called ahead with; _:heyla, friend!:_

It only occurred to him _after_ he had shouted to the other Companion, that said equine may not be entirely pleased with him and his out-of-Custom Choice, either. He hoped, as the former-Spirit stopped and turned to look at him in surprise, that he hadn't just condemned himself and Bri to—

_What _would _the Elders do, anyway? They couldn't have me put to death without killing Bri, too._

He knew that is was technically possible to break a Herald-Companion bond, but he didn't think… wait, what if Bri actually _wanted_ to separate herself from him? Now there was a thought—if she was told about the possibility, would she take it? Better not to tell her yet.

Not that he didn't intend to mention it eventually, as it was only fair to give her an option (which was more than most Spirits would say) but he could feel that she was still confused and even a little upset about him "marching in and turning her life upside down" without even asking.

Once she calmed down, _t__hen_ he'd tell her about the Bond-Breaking technique.

_You know, I'm not even sure how it would work._

Surely, though, it would be unpleasant for them both.

_I'll give her time to get used to the idea of being Bonded to me, and then I'll ask her if she wants me to stay or not._ He decided, as they approached the other Companion-Chosen pair. _If not… she can't stay at the Collegium, so she'd have to go back to that..._ Even though he was keeping his thoughts private, he couldn't keep the disgust out of his tone; _…brothel…_

Ahead of them, the other stallion had stopped and was waiting good-naturedly for them to catch up. The girl on his back looked as if she wasn't sure if she should be curious or annoyed with the interruption, and Lyntar immediately thought of Bri, as the other girl seemed to share the stubborn impatience that she did.

_:Heyla youself,:_ the other Companion greeted him, and Lyntar reluctantly stopped, though he couldn't help sparing a glance behind them. _:Coming__ back from the Hunt, are you?:_

Lyntar almost winced. _:Sort__ of.:_

The other gave him a curious look, then; _:I don't know you, do I? Well, I'm Arlam, and this is my Chosen, Mel.:_

_:Lyntar__.:_ He introduced himself shortly. _:And__ Brianna.:_

Mel was staring oddly at Bri, and seemed to be trying to remember something. Lyntar figured she was probably going through a mental rolodex of names in an attempt to figure out why she didn't know Bri's face.

After a long moment, she tipped her head to the side and said, "I'm Mel Truant."

Bri nodded. "Brianna Osias."

More silence. Somewhat uneasy at that, as Mel continued to go through mental names, Arlam wondered was she was doing, Bri stared at the trees without speaking, and Lyntar worriedly kept tabs on the approaching Elders, occasionally shifting his feet restlessly and flicking his tail in an expression of concern.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore and shook his mane, _:we__ should keep going.:_

_:Hm?:_ Arlam looked at him, then shrugged amiably, _:sure. Shall we travel together?:_

_:We're__ going the same way,:_ he reminded the other Companion. Though he was reluctant, Lyntar had agreed. Better not to arouse suspicion until he was well within the safety of Haven.

It wasn't until they were a good way down the road when Mel turned to Bri, and without posing any real questions or seeming angry, in fact, with very little emotion at all, stated simply; "Brianna, you weren't a Trainee."

o-o-o-o-o

He stared, barely comprehending, at Cheyne's ears. "You have _got_ to be joking."

_:Of__ course not.:_ She told him flatly, _:do _you_ want to spend the rest of your life out here? Because I rather like the sound of the Collegium, and it would seem to be much better than living in the forest.:_

"You've lived here all your life."

_:And__ that doesn't mean I don't aspire for more.:_ Cheyne stated tartly, _:so just get your firestarting rear in gear and build the damn thing.:_

Cursing silently, Dragan slid down from her back (a task that was easier as she wasn't wearing a saddle) and landed lightly on the ground, then stood for a second and looked at the stream in silence, trying to come up with words to describe to Cheyne how he was feeling—and completely failing at the attempt.

_:I__ know how you feel about it, Chosen, but there doesn't appear to be any other way.:_

"Gods," he muttered, then threw his hands into the air in resignation and set about finding what he needed to build a makeshift bridge.

o-o-o-o-o

"Can I ask you something?"

A shrug. "Why not?"

"Why do you want to join the Guard?"

Niressa gave a mental chuckle. _:It only took an hour of brooding, but you finally asked.:_

Gabriel ignored her and concentrated on Leshie, who was frowning at him. The sight made him uncomfortable, and he had to resist the urge to apologize for asking in the first place. Niressa seemed to find the entire thing incredibly amusing, damn her wishy-washy heart.

_:Wishy__-washy?:_

_:Hush__, Niressa.:_

Leshie shook her head. "It's complicated, but the basics are that my parents were forcing me into marriage."

"Really?" He wanted to say something more, but couldn't think of anything. Aside from that fact that he thought the entire idea of forcing anyone into marriage was _wrong_, that is. "What made you think joining the Guard would be a good idea?"

She shrugged, "I can't do anything else. It was either the Guard or marrying the Duke my parents set up, so…"

Gabriel made a barely audible noise of disgust. "They shouldn't be able to force marriage on anyone."

While it was true that he had never had to deal with things like that, having grown up on a farm, he knew he definitely wasn't going to advocate arranged marriages. The strange thing was that he knew they happened all the time, and knew that a lot of them were bad matches to begin with, but he had never really had a firm opinion on them before. Now, though, he was certain he was against them in any way, shape and form.

In the back of his mind, Niressa murmured something, sounding amused, but then refused to repeat it when he asked her what she had said, so he chalked it up to her being a bit of a mental basket-case.

_:There's__ no need for name-calling.:_ She sighed, _:I didn't say anything important, anyway. I was just talking to myself.:_

He didn't believe her for a second, but he couldn't tell for sure if she was lying to him or not. That was the problem with having only just developed his Gifts: he didn't have enough control over them to really get anything out of them. That, and they were still only semi-formed. Niressa had told him they would grow and mature over time, but he wasn't sure how long it would take and they weren't doing him any good at the moment.

_:You'll__ just have to be patient.:_ Niressa chuckled, _:now why don't you go back to fawning over Leshie?:_

The indignation in Gabriel's mindvoice was _very_ apparent in his reply, but she continued to laugh anyway as they crested the final hill to look down at the sprawling city of Haven below.

o-o-o-o-o

Mel was quiet, contemplating, and Arlam was doing much the same. Bri was sitting, her chin held high and her hands tight in Lyntar's mane, and Lyntar was walking as quickly as he could while distracted by the mental cursing his mind was doing without his say so.

"So," finally, Mel pursed her lips and glanced from Bri to Lyntar and back. "You weren't a Trainee, which is why I didn't recognize you, so you weren't on a Hunt, and still Lyntar came and Chose you? Just out of the blue? He just walked up and _Chose_ you?"

"Yes." Bri responded, then added; "not that I'm particularly thrilled about it."

"I was always told that Spirits don't Choose people outside of the Hunts." She looked down at Arlam, who was still, apparently, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just heard, his eyes vacant as his thoughts were turned inward. "Right?"

_:That's__ the way our Customs work.:_ The Companion agreed vaguely, _:so I don't see… I mean, it's…:_

"Strange?" Bri suggested.

_:Just__ a little.:_ Arlam acknowledged.

"Stranger than you Choosing bread?" Mel asked dryly, earning an embarrassed twitch from Arlam and a bewildered look from both Bri and Lyntar. She just shook her head and waved them off, "it's a long story. Lyntar… what made you break Custom like this?"

_:I__ had to.:_ Lyntar informed her, more than a little defensively, _:we _need _Bri, and the stupidity of our Customs was keeping me from Choosing her. So I went against them. Is that a problem?:_

Mel raised an eyebrow, "not really."

_:Good__.:_

Snorting, Lyntar upped his step, putting on a little more speed, and Arlam quickly matched it. Despite the questioning glances the others were giving him, he ignored them, refusing to explain the fact that two of the Elders were chasing him down, intent on stopping him before he could set foot inside the Collegium gates.

Speaking of which…

He glanced upward, tracking the sun in the sky, and began to work out the time of day, as well as how far from Haven they currently were—and was relieved to find that they were only a candlemark or so away.

Though Aterya and Zeshawn were close behind him, he had managed to get enough of a head start, despite his—ahem—problems at the inn, he figured he could manage to get there before they intercepted him.

Or so he hoped, anyway.

o-o-o-o-o

Leshie looked up the hill toward where the Palace stood, and Aimee shifted restlessly under her. Her eyes didn't move from where they were trained as she patted the horse and then passed the reins from one hand to the other. Beside her, Niressa was waiting patiently as Gabriel attempted to remember just _who_ Leshie would have to talk to about joining the Guard.

"I honestly can't recall the name," he said after a long moment of racking his brain, "but I can tell you who _would_ know—you could talk to Leftenant Malcam, and he could tell you for sure." He paused, considering, "he might be the one who does recruiting, too, but I'm not sure."

Leshie nodded, her gaze still on the Palace and Collegia grounds.

Gabriel continued anyway: "he's probably teaching right now, but you could catch him during his off-hours. He normally heads to a tavern called the Companion's Bell when he's done for the day, so try there, and if I see him I'll tell him you're looking for him."

"Thanks." She finally moved her eyes to him, and smiled vaguely, "I appreciate it."

"Sure." He tipped his head to the side and then asked; "do you have anywhere to stay?"

"Hm?" Leshie seemed surprised, "I don't know anyone in Haven except you," she admitted, "but I should be able to find something, at least for tonight."

Gabriel didn't seem convinced, and he took on a far-away look while he conversed privately with Niressa, who probably was as un-convinced as he was. She wondered if there was a reason why Niressa wasn't openly speaking in front of her. Then again, she didn't have any Gifts that she knew about, so she might just not be able to hear her. Aimee began to shuffle again, and Leshie took the time offered by the lapse in conversation to calm her once more. The palfrey was in desperate need of a good grooming and some hot mash, but she could go without for another day or so if she had to. Leshie was glad for that, though she hated to do it, as she didn't have any money on her to buy the mash in the first place.

She _did_ have a currycomb, though, which she had thrown in her packs before she'd left the Holdings.

"You know what?" Gabriel interrupted her thoughts, making her glance up again, "you should come with me. The Housekeeper could probably use some help, even if it _is_ just for the day, and you could give her and the Cook a hand in exchange for somewhere to sleep for the night and a place to stable Aimee."

"But—"

She couldn't finish, as he was too pleased with his plan to stop explaining it quite yet. "And that way, you'd be right in the Collegium! I could just tell Leftenant Malcam to look for you in the kitchen, or to ask Ellyn where you were, and he could find you with no trouble at all! It's a much better idea than leaving you to hang around in a tavern until all hours of the night waiting for him." He didn't add the part where he really didn't like the idea _himself_, as even he thought it was strange that he was so worried about her. "What do you think?"

Given the chance to consider, Leshie pondered for a few minutes, absently twisting a strand of Aimee's mane in her fingers as she did so.

She really didn't have a problem with housework of any kind, though there were certain things she wasn't good at—sewing, for example, and she was only passable at making beds. Any kind of mindless cleaning she could do, and she figured things like scrubbing floors and doing dishes were probably the chores that had the least volunteers. As for helping the Cook… just because she couldn't boil water didn't mean she couldn't serve, or even help to dish food out and chop vegetables to a certain extent.

To be realistic, she probably would have taken the offer even if she had been completely inept at house and kitchen work. She really _didn't_ have any money, and she needed somewhere to sleep and somewhere to put Aimee up for the night, never mind food for the both of them.

She nodded. "If you think they'll take me, I guess I can do that."

"Great." Gabriel was practically glowing, much to Niressa's amusement, "let's go, Niressa." And when a long moment went by and the Companion didn't move, he leaned forward to look at her. "Niressa?"

She whuffed, sounding distinctly puzzled, and nodded her head toward the Palace. Gabriel looked up—and his eyebrows rose in surprise. Beside him, Leshie was mirroring his expression almost perfectly.

A dozen Companions, all without riders, and walking with a purpose, were approaching from the Field.

o-o-o-o-o

This could be bad.

Lyntar stared down at Haven from the top of the sloped road. More specifically, he stared at the _Collegium_ from the top of the sloped road. He stared the Collegium from the top of the sloped road and tried to figure out what he was going to do.

Next to him, Arlam was (again) looking quite baffled.

Mel was frowning, and Bri—actually, he couldn't se Bri at the moment, but he had no doubt that she was frowning as well. And they all watched as in the distance, a handful of shining white horse-shaped beings headed en mass toward the Gates to the Collegium grounds.

Near the Gates themselves, there were already two riders: one of them was on a Companion, and probably newly-Chosen, as with Mel, as he didn't appear to be wearing Whites. The other was on a brown-bay horse, which seemed to be stamping and fidgeting impatiently, but Lyntar wasn't sure.

Behind him, he could feet Aterya and Zeshawn gaining even more ground.

He was running out of time, and he doubted very much that the Companions who were heading for the Gates were a Welcoming Committee.

_I guess I'd better get this over with._

Sighing in resignation, he started down the hill with Arlam right behind him. Though the other stallion hadn't said much along the way, Lyntar was convinced that he didn't outright _oppose_ his Choosing Bri, even if he wasn't really sure what to think of it. And he had to admit that it felt good to know that not everyone was out for his blood—there was at least one Spirit and one Companion who were neutral on the subject.

_Lovely.__ Just lovely._

It only took them a few minutes to reach the Gates, and what they found when they got there was an envoy of stern and annoyed Companions, and, between them and Lyntar's group, two teenagers who were looking mighty out of the loop. He made a mental note to explain everything to them once the trouble was over.

And there would be trouble, he was sure.

_:_Spirit _Lyntar.:_ The voice was female, and Lyntar recognized it as belonging to Yauvani, who now stepped to the front of the group. The fact that she had called him "Spirit" and not "Companion" _and_ that she had made a point of emphasizing it, irked him. _:Why__ have you come to Haven?:_

Lyntar met her gaze strongly. _:I came to bring _my Chosen _for training.:_

Yauvani's eyes went to Bri. _:She__ is not a Trainee, and you are not a Companion.:_

_:I__ have Chosen her.:_ He replied defiantly, _:and I will not repudiate her because _you _say I should. I _am _taking her to train, and she _will _he a Herald.:_

The mare's voice took on a dangerous edge. _:Spirit__ Lyntar, I am telling you now—leave Haven and return to the Pelagiris where you belong. You and your mis-Chosen girl are not welcome here.:_

That statement made Lyntar's hackles go up, and he bared his teeth angrily, his front left hoof scraping along the paved road. A little behind him, Arlam seemed unsure of what to do, but Mel was already full of righteous indignation at the confrontation before her. The Trainee between them and the other Companions seemed to share Arlam's feelings, as did his Companion and the girl he was with.

_:I__—:_ Lyntar snarled, _:am _not_ leaving. Bri and I are _not _going to do as you say, as you do _not _have any power over us.:_ Whether Bri agreed or not, he was too angry to care, and he turned his head to look back the way they had come, fixing a sapphire glare on Aterya and Zeshawn, who were watching from the rise they had just passed over. _:I am also _not _bound by the laws of the Spirits any longer, as I am _not _one of them anymore.:_ He raised his head, then, fixing his eyes on Yauvani. _:I__ am a Companion, and you can accept me or reject me, but that is what I am and I will _not _change because you say so.:_

A mixture of emotions flitted across Yauvani's eyes, and eventually she settled an anger, the same as Lyntar had. Her ears were pinned flat against her skull and her nostrils flared. _:_Spirit_ Lyntar, you will—:_

_:Oh__, cut it out Yauvani.:_

This was a new voice, and Yauvani turned as two more Companions trotted toward them, these with riders on their backs. Lyntar didn't recognize either of the humans, or the Companion stallion, but the mare was _more _than familiar.

_:You__ don't have a choice in the matter.:_ Rella continued as she slowed to a stop beside the absolutely livid mare, _:if Lyntar has Chosen, then he has Chosen. You know as well as I that we do not Choose the unworthy, and if he feels that he needs this girl then we can do nothing about it.:_

Yauvani was probably a little more than annoyed with the other mare, who was not only her junior in the hierarchy of things, but also younger than her—but as Rella's Herald was currently nodding in agreement, and behind them both the Companion stallion and _his_ Chosen were doing likewise, she really had nothing to say.

Instead, she chose to growl softly, a strange sound coming from something that looked like a horse, and then spun on her heel to vanish back up the road the way she had come. A few of the Companions followed her, all as angry as she was, but several of them stayed behind to murmur apologies before leaving as well.

One boisterous fellow even commented that Yauvani had _:__—needed her tail docked—:_ for quite some time, and that he was glad to have been there to see it. _:A Choice is a Choice, no matter what.:_ He added, _:and I never was much for Tradition, either.:_

Lyntar thought he could get to like him, and thanked the stallion before watching him take off after the rest, leaving the two Heralds and their Companions with four very confused teenagers (one of whom was still terribly angry because of what she had just witnessed), two Companions who had no idea what was going on, and another Companion who was standing tall and defiant, giving them an "I dare you to try to make me leave" look.

"Well," the woman said after a moment, "that certainly was interesting."

_:I__ agree.:_ Her Companion said dryly.

She patted his neck, "hush, Ran." A half-smile followed, and she gestured toward the Collegium, "you had better come in, now."

_:Yes__,:_ Rella agreed, fixing her eyes on Lyntar, _:you certainly have some explaining to do.:_

Lyntar returned her look, then snorted and started after them as they turned to go inside. Arlam followed, still trying to figure out what had just happened, and after them came the other two, who were muttering among themselves now.

_Well, I'm inside…_

Once through the Gates, Lyntar spared a glance back.

And Aterya and Zeshawn were gone.


	5. That Was A River

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** Jemeste Coriydue belongs to Fireblade: she's a former-brothel girl and friend of Bri's, who now works as a servant girl for Herald-Chronicler Jestel (who, incidentally, also belongs to Fireblade.) Bard Fradrick and Housekeeper Ellyn belong to etcetera-cat.

**Notes:** Why yes, etcetera-cat, that _was_ the one and only Eckran!

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter 4: That Was A River  
By Senashenta  
**

Rella stared Lyntar down, unblinking, as the younger Companion attempted to finish explaining what he had done, and also _why_. The disconcerting thing was that Rella's eyes were a deeper shade of blue than the eyes of most others, which gave anyone who looked at her the impression that she had no pupils.

And Lyntar was more than aware of that as he stumbled through his explanation, with everyone listening and Bri rolling her eyes as he tripped over the words and stammered occasional, all the while kicking himself for being so intimidated by—of all people—his _aunt_.

He had to admit that she wasn't exactly as he remembered her, though: among other things, she had a thin but angry looking scar running across her face from above her left eye to just below her right ear. It was an old injury, but looked painful nonetheless, and gave Rella the look of a seasoned warrior.

She definitely wasn't someone you wanted to tangle with for the fun of it.

Or meet in a dark alleyway, for that matter.

_:Lyn__,:_ she interrupted finally, after his words became so mangled that he wasn't making any sense. _:Let me get this straight… you've Chosen this girl because you sense she can help to save the Spirits from the Shadows of the Pelagiris. But to do so you blatantly went against all Custom and Tradition?:_

Put that way…

Lyntar's ears drooped. _:Bascially__, yes.:_

The Companion stallion who stood just to the right of her—Turaan, as his Herald had introduced him—gave a snort that Lyntar couldn't interpret. He might have been angry or sarcastic, or even amused. In any case, he wasn't saying anything so Lyntar turned his attention back to Rella, who now shook her head and sent a glance back over her shoulder toward Her Chosen, Herald Dillin.

_:I can't say I don't see where Yauvani was coming from, then.:_ She conceded with a sigh, _:though, had it been me, I probably wouldn't have gone with stopping you at the gates and picking a fight.:_ Then she added, _:she's always had a kink in her tail.:_

Mel, who had been silently grooming Arlam but listening intently anyway, paused long enough to ask; "you mean she's a bitch?"

Rella's ears flicked, and she seemed to be trying to decide if she should reprimand the girl or snicker at what she had said. Arlam choked back a laugh at Mel's words and ducked his head to hide the amusement that was flickering through his eyes. After his initial surprise upon learning about Lyntar's Choice, he seemed to have decided to cope. Lyntar could already tell that he was going to like him, considering the sense of humor the other stallion boasted. It was probably a good thing, too, as Bri and Mel seemed to be getting along well. They would probably be spending quite a bit of time together in the near future as they both settled into their new lives.

"I can understand why Yauvani was upset, too." Dillin commented, "but she had no right to say the things she did."

_:I agree, even though I only half-understand what's going on.:_ This was from the other Companion mare, Niressa, who was standing with a young boy named Gabriel and allowing him to comb her mane while they both paid very close attention to the conversation at hand.

Gabriel and Niressa, they now knew, were the ones who had been caught in the middle of Lyntar's little confrontation with Yauvani and the other Companions. The girl who had been with them was named Leshie—she had declined to tell them her last name—and she was in the process of rubbing her horse down in a stall near the back of the stables.

Lyntar and Rella, as well as Turaan and the two full-Heralds, were all standing in the stable yard. Bri was perched on the fence, gazing out into the Field and probably thinking about what was going to happen to her, though Lyntar wasn't going to pry into her mind to find out.

_:What__ are we going to do?:_ Turaan asked, finally.

"What we always do with new Heraldic Trainees," his Chosen, Herald Mirim, sighed. "We're going to present Bri to the King along with the others, and then we're going to train her with them as well."

_:Alright__, Miri.:_ Turaan sounded resigned, but not completely displeased with her decision. _:Alright.:_

o-o-o-o-o

"I can't believe you made me do that."

_:Well__ what did you expect me to do, huh?:_

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe _cross the damn river_?"

_:And__ drown?!:_

"You're insane, do you know that?"

Cheyne shook her head and flicked her tail primly, her gait staying level and unchanged as she tilted her eye toward Dragan. _:Says__ he who can start fires with his mind. Look, we're _across_, aren't we? Just accept it as Fate that you had to build the bridge and get over it.:_

Dragan groaned. "Am I really stuck with you for the rest of my life?"

_:Oh__, poor baby.:_ She teased, her voice mocking.

He gave a suffering sigh, and Cheyne nickered happily.

Despite the troubles they had already had in their newly formed Bonding, he had to admit that he wouldn't have given her up for anything. And her fear of running water aside, she was probably more compatible with him than his own mother; that was most likely due to his rebellious personality. And _that_, he had learned, was probably because of the nature of his only-just-forming Gift.

A _firestarter_, Cheyne had called him—he knew what that meant, even if he had never known anyone with the firestarting Gift before. Or, he had, but not anyone who had the Gift in any sort of real power. Herald-Chronicler Jestel was known to have firestarting, after all, though it was so slight that the most he could do was light campfires with it.

Dragan wondered vaguely who would train him when he got back to the Collegia.

_:They'll__ find someone, never you worry.:_

Worry? Him? Not likely, though he had to admit he was _considering _worrying about Cheyne's mental health…

_What kind of a Spirit is afraid of water?_

She sniffed redundantly. _:This kind, apparently.:_

"I hadn't guessed." Dragan chuckled.

No. He wasn't the kind to worry about things: everything had a way of working out in the end, he had found, so he tried to focus on the positive and let time and fate run its course. That particular trait, and his rebellious streak, had made life in the middle-class section of Haven _interesting_ to say the least.

To be blunt, he had been a pain in the ass.

But he'd had fun, so he figured it had all been worth it. His mother had been more than happy to ship him off to the Collegium when he had been accepted for the basic training, which had eventually lead up to his Hunt and meeting Cheyne, though. Not that he really blamed her.

Now he couldn't wait to get home and pop into his old neighborhood for a visit, trailing a brand-spanking new white horse.

At that thought, Cheyne made a sound akin to clearing her throat and he edited the words, changing "horse" to "Spirit" and then to "Companion" as she poked him mentally to remind him of the transition in her title.

"What's the difference, anyway?"

_:A__ Spirit hasn't Chosen and a Companion has. Basically, it's so that we all know who's been exposed to humans and who hasn't.:_

"_Exposed_ to humans?" Dragan demanded, "you say it like we're a contagious disease or something."

There was a long pause before Cheyne replied, and then her words were tinged with mischief. _:Actually__,:_ she giggled childishly, _:that's the best way of describing it I've ever heard…:_

o-o-o-o-o

Why had she taken Gabriel up on the offer to help out in the Collegia, again? Oh yeah... she needed food to live. A sigh, and Leshie followed the previously thought of boy through the halls as he lead her off toward the mending room, where the Housekeeper was supposedly working at the moment.

Shortly, she supposed, she would find herself up to her elbows in one set of chores or another. Not that she was going to complain, as she was happy to have somewhere to keep both herself and Aimee. But… somehow, she felt as if she had stepped into something she had no right to be a part of. Certainly, as she wasn't Chosen, she couldn't understand why all of the Companions were acting the way they were toward the one named Lyntar and the girl… Brianna? She thought that was her name.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh? Sorry?" She glanced up at Gabriel, who had stopped walking and was looking at her with concern.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay? You look upset about something."

"No, I'm fine." Leshie shook her head. "Just thinking I shouldn't be here."

"But… didn't you want to join the Guard?"

He sounded confused, and she had to smile. "I mean I shouldn't be _here_."

"Why?"

_:She__ thinks she shouldn't be barging in on the whole Herald-Companion thing, and what's going on with Lyntar and Brianna.:_ Niressa supplied for him, though Leshie couldn't hear her.

Gabriel tisked. "You belong here as much as I do."

Leshie blinked, "what? But—"

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I was glad you were here?"

Surprised, Leshie blinked blankly at him, unaware that Niressa was laughing mirthfully in the back of his head. Or his part, Gabriel was looking distinctly embarrassed, and cleared his throat uncomfortably before adding to his prior statement; "I mean, I don't know anything about you, really, but I think we could be friends." He grinned sheepishly, "and I'm glad to have the chance to get to know you."

She was taken aback by his words, and continued to just stare for another second, then rubbed her left arm a bit nervously and gave him a tentative smile. "I guess… me, too."

"Ah, good." He laughed, then; "so… we'd better keep going. We're almost there."

Both of them seemed unable to come up with anything else to say, and Gabriel started walking again, shaking his head minutely and kicking himself for not being quite as glib as he had intended.

_:She__ took it well anyway.:_ Niressa pointed out.

_:Still__…:_ he winced inwardly, _:I mean "would it make you feel better if I told you I was glad you were here"? I met her _yesterday _for crying out loud.:_ A sigh, and he glanced over his shoulder discreetly. Leshie was following him, her eyes on the floor and a slight frown of concentration on her face. He wondered briefly what she was thinking about. _:I think I might be going crazy.:_

_:Now__, now.:_ His Companion tisked, _:as I mentioned before, you _are _a teenager, Gabriel.:_

_:And__ how long will that last, do you think?:_

She rolled her eyes, and even though she wasn't _there_ with him, he could see it. Then she vanished from his thoughts, leaving him to brood over the idiocy of what he had just out and said to Leshie, whom he didn't know anything about. Not that he wouldn't _like_ to know more about her…

Gods. She certainly wasn't the first girl he had ever met, and it frustrated him to no end that he was acting so incredibly _stupid_ around her and couldn't seem to do anything about it. He shook his head again and sighed in resignation before stopping outside of the mending room and waiting for Leshie to catch up with him before making a vague gesture toward the half-open door.

"Here."

He was resorting to speaking monosyllabically, now…

Leshie looked toward the room and then waited while Gabriel poked his head around the corner to make sure the Housekeeper was actually _in_ the room, then stepped inside, motioning for her to follow him.

A dozen pairs of curious eyes watched them enter, not the least of which belonged to a stout middle-aged woman with pepper grey hair and a warm look about her. And though she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of invading the Collegia, as she wasn't Chosen, Leshie relaxed minutely, deciding she was going to like the woman, assuming she was the Housekeeper that Gabriel had been telling her about.

"Gabriel," she said after a momentary pause and with laughter in her voice, "what have you brought home with you _this_ time?"

He smiled at her charmingly, and she gave him a suspicious glance. "Ellyn, I have a favour to ask."

Her eyes narrowed minutely, and she set her sewing to the side before giving the other occupants of the room—all but two of whom were girls—a look that sent them all scrambling back to work. "I take it this favour has to do with your new girlfriend, then?"

"My—" Gabriel's face flushed red and he hastily shook his head, giving an embarrassed laugh. "No, no. She's just… a new friend of mine." He cleared his throat, the effect of which was to cause all of the girls who were currently sewing to burst into fits of giggles. They were silenced shortly by Ellyn, who eyed them again. "Um, she's new in Haven and I wondered if you might have something she could do in exchange for room and board for a while?" A shrug. "Chores or something, maybe? I figured you'd be the best one to ask, since you've always got things to do around here…"

"Hm." She turned a critical eye on Leshie. "What's your name, then?"

She couldn't help it, she wasn't proud of it, and she _certainly_ wasn't going to admit it, but Leshie found herself more than a little intimidated by the strength she recognized in the woman's gaze. "Uh, Leshie?"

Ellyn had to laugh at the question-statement. "Is it or isn't it?"

Leshie nodded. "My name is Leshie."

"Alright, Leshie. My name is Ellyn, and just Ellyn. Don't go starting with the Ma'am This and Ma'am That's, you hear me?" Her hands went to her hips as Leshie shuffled nervously and Gabriel tried to ignore the fact that his face was still bright pink and everyone in the room was tittering at his expense. "So what do you think you can do around here, to earn a room and food?"

"For me and my horse, or just for me?"

"You brought a horse with you?" Ellyn's lips twitched, but she managed to retain the serious expression. "Well then, you'll have to do quite a bit of work to earn enough to feed an animal of that size, as I'm sure Gabriel can vouch for."

_:Was__ that directed toward _me_?:_ Niressa asked incredulously, _:how does she even know you were Chosen?:_

_:Logic__, silly horse.:_ Gabriel responded, trying not to make it too obvious that he was conversing with her under Housekeeper Ellyn's nose. _:If__ I hadn't been Chosen I wouldn't have come back here after my Hunt, right? Besides, you haven't been here long so you don't realize how fast word travels around the Collegia, especially among the servants. And Ellyn just happens to watch over all of the afore mentioned…:_

_:Ah__.:_

Ellyn turned her sharp eyes toward him for a moment, and he was thankful when Niressa disappeared again and he could look at her and not worry about seeming as if he was a million miles away.

Leshie was standing rock-solid, but he could tell she was worried—probably either about the impression she was giving the Housekeeper, or about what the other woman was scheming…

_What am I thinking? I don't know how Leshie feels…Bright Lady, I'm an idiot._

_:You're__ also very quickly developing an infatuation with our lovely friend Miss Leshie Rakmour.:_

This time, Gabriel ignored her entirely, and Niressa chuckled before her consciousness took its normal place in the back of his thoughts. About that time, Ellyn stood up and wandered over past him to tower over Leshie, who thought nothing of tilting her head up and meeting the Housekeeper stare for stare.

"What do you know about mending?"

"Nothing."

At least she was truthful.

Gabriel had to resist the urge to chuckle at the look of surprise that flashed across Ellyn's face as Leshie shrugged like it was no big deal that she couldn't sew. He was sure by the time she left the Collegium Ellyn would have seen to it she could do everything from mending to embroidery.

"But," Leshie continued as Ellyn tried to think of a response to her bluntly-put admission. "I can do all kinds of cleaning, since it's all basically the same. And even though I can't cook, I'd be willing to help out in the kitchen, too. Washing dishes or serving…"

"You'll have to ask Arram about that," Ellyn told her, obviously resisting the urge to smile and completely destroy her stern image. "But I can think of one or two rooms that could do with a good scrubbing, and I'm sure that I can find odds and ends for you to do around here in exchange for food and a bed."

She nodded, "that sounds good."

"For you and your horse."

"Even better. I'm sure Aimee will appreciate it."

"Good then." Ellyn waved Gabriel over before her hands returned to her hips. "Gabriel can show you to the servants quarters, which is the only place I have any authority to put you, unfortunately. You won't have anything special, but you'll have a room of your own. I'll also have to get you into uniforms if you're going to be working here, but we'll deal with that later." The efficiency in which she dealt with the situation and worked everything out in her mind was astonishing. "You can look around the Collegium today and get your bearings, but be sure to get lots of sleep tonight. You'll have a long day tomorrow."

Leshie nodded mutely, and headed for the door after Gabriel.

"Leshie."

She paused and turned back toward the other woman. "Yes?"

"What's your last name?"

Even though she felt badly doing it, she replied with; "Hamlin. My name is Leshie Hamlin."

Ellyn seemed to be storing the information away, and gave a brief nod—and an even briefer, though genuine, smile—before turning to go back to her mending. Leshie took that as a dismissal and vanished into the hallways after Gabriel, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed and a look of concentration on his face.

She waited for the inevitable question, but still winced when it came.

"Why did you lie about your last name?"

o-o-o-o-o

She just wasn't used to things being quite so _big_—that was the biggest problem she was having as Herald Mirim showed her around the Collegia. Despite her maturity, Bri's eyes were easily the side of saucers as she attempted to take in just how _huge_ and intricate the compound was.

_:Far__ better than that deplorable _inn _you were living at, right?:_

The response to Lyntar's abrupt comment was immediate, though really more of a set of feelings and images, as opposed to words of any coherent kind. _Get _out_ of my head, horse._ She had yet, he decided, to figure out the whole Mindspeech thing. He decided to ponder on it later, as he was getting a distinctly threatening air from Bri, and faded from her mind.

Bri's lips had compressed into a thin line, but now she relaxed minutely and returned her attention to her surroundings.

Currently, she was alone with Mirim, as it was she who had offered to give her a tour of the Collegium. She had introduced herself as the Orientations Instructor—whatever that meant—and as soon as Rella was finished interrogating Lyntar she had swept Bri off toward the Palace with a grin and an air of efficiency that was a little bit overwhelming.

The others had gone off on their own, as most of them had been living in the Collegium for years already. Granted, the girl whose name was Leshie (and Bri had barely met) was new, but Gabriel, who was also a Heraldic Trainee, had been more than willing to show her around. In fact, Bri got the impression that the entire Tour Experience that Leshie was about to get had been Gabriel's idea in the first place.

In any case, Mel had gone back to her quarters in the Trainee's Wing of the Palace, as she obviously already knew her way around. Mirim—"Miri" she had said to call her—had explained that anyone who was Chosen on their Hunt would be transferred from the General Trainee's Wing to the _Heraldic_ Trainee's Wing within a day or so of their return. So far, the Herald had told her, the transfers were confined to two people: Mel and Gabriel.

"You'll most likely be put into the Heraldic Trainee's Wing, as well." Miri said, "because you're already Chosen."

"Ah." Bri nodded vaguely. "Are… there just the two?"

She looked a bit confused. "Sorry?"

"Mel and Gabriel." She clarified, "are there just going to be the two Chosen this year?"

Miri paused and cocked her head to the side. Bri could tell she was listening to her Companion, and she figured the Herald had probably asked him about the Season's Hunts. "Ran says there'll be one more." She shook her head, "he's just coming back from the Pelagiris, though, so he won't be here until late tomorrow night or the next morning-"

"Really?!" A new voice demanded, making Bri jump and Miri roll her eyes, and a head—clad in shoulder length brown curls—poked around the nearest corner. The head was followed by a thin and boyish body, which stepped into the hallway and then paused. "So there'll be three this year? Are any of them my age?"

Bri blinked at the girl who was now fixed determinedly on Miri. She was wearing a dark blue uniform, which bore the crest of Valdemar on the front tunic pocket, and seemed to be waiting for Miri to respond to her questions. The Herald had put her hands into the air in a joking motion of self-defense and the girl raised an eyebrow before placing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot on the floor in irritation.

"Actually Hallie, this year at least two of them are around your age." She sighed finally, waving a hand in the girl's direction. "But I can't guarantee anything about the third, since he's not here yet… and what do you want, _now_?"

The girl—Hallie, Bri noted—smiled innocently. "My classes are done for today because of Council meetings, and I heard some of the Trainees were back from their Hunts so I figured I'd come and bother you into introducing me."

Miri seemed amused, but turned to nod in Bri's direction. "Well, you're in luck."

"Hm?" Hallie's eyes shifted from the Herald to Bri, "you're a Trainee?"

Bri shrugged. "I am now."

"But you're not even in Grays."

"Very observant."

"Ooh. Sarcasm." The other girl chuckled, "I'm Hallie, by the way."

"I'm Brianna… but most people call me "Bri"."

Miri watched the rather short introduction in silence, then sighed when she was shoved out of the way by Hallie, who quickly took it upon herself to finish the tour in her place. Still, as the Orientations Instructor she would have to tag along and make sure that _Hallie_ made sure to show Bri everything important and explain the rules of the Collegia. Besides, she still had to assign Bri a room and, come to think of it, find the Housekeeper and see about getting her some uniforms.

_Sometimes I wish I was still out on Circuit._

_:Oh__?:_ Turaan asked, _:you _enjoyed _living on way rations and being in the saddle for days_ _on__ end?:_

_:Not__ particularly,:_ she admitted, _:but at least it was a little more exciting than being assigned to the Collegium.:_

_:You__ know they put you here because you're good with the younglings, right?:_

_:Yes__, Ran, I know.:_

_:But__ that doesn't mean you have to like it?:_

_:Exactly__ my point.:_

Turaan gave a mental laugh, but didn't try to persuade her any farther. He knew that she understood the reasons for her station, and on most days she even enjoyed it to a certain extent. But, of course, there were other days when she got bored and wished that she could be out somewhere adventuring.

Personally, he was of the mindset that _adventure_ was somewhat overrated, especially if it meant waling up any time before noon.

With Turaan silent again, Miri turned her attention back to the two girls who were walking only a yard ahead of her. Hallie had Bri by the arm and was talking animatedly, her monologue interrupted routinely with random information about the various hallways, rooms, artwork, and occasionally people that they passed.

"—basically, I'm just tired of being on my own." She was saying, "see, there are plenty of Blues and even a few Bardic or Healers students that are my age, but until this year all of the Heraldic Trainees have been older than me, so they didn't want to hang around with a little kid. I mean, _I_ wouldn't have wanted to, either… oh, and down that hallway is where the Trainee's Wing is. Not the _Heraldic _Trainee's quarters, mind you, but the Collegium Trainees. All the Trainees who have Companions are in another wing, across from that one and kind of diagonal. Anyway, I've been _dying_ of curiosity about the Spirits and Companions—that's something I have in common with Bard Fradrick, actually—but I didn't really know anyone from the Heraldic Trainees so I didn't have much contact with the Companions at all." She sighed somewhat sadly. "But now Reiley and I are fourteen, and that's an average age for going on your Hunt and being Chosen, so now I've got people to bug!"

She seemed monumentally pleased with that, and Bri took the lapse in her talking to open her mouth and interject a question. "Uh, Reiley?"

"Him?" Hallie made a face, "Reiley's my older brother. Well, he's my twin, but he was born a little bit before me. He's in the Collegium with me for schooling, but we're not Heraldic or Bardic _or _Healers so we're actually called Unaffiliates. Hence the Blue uniform."

Bri barely managed a weak "oh" before Hallie continued walking and her rambling began anew. Miri finally took pity on the silver eyed (an odd color, she noted) girl, and made an interrupting noise, causing Hallie to turn around with Bri in tow. Once they were both focused on her, she raised her eyebrows for emphasis.

"Hallie," she said, "in case you had forgotten, we have to present today's Trainees to the court in about a quarter of a candlemark…"

"Oh yeah." The girl shook her head and released Bri, who gave Miri an appreciative look. "Alright, then… um, I guess I have to go then." Within seconds she was practically flying down the hallway, waving a quick goodbye before she disappeared around a corner and her footsteps faded into the distance.

Bri stood, staring, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"No worries," Miri laughed at the expression on her face, "you'll get used to it quickly, I guarantee it."

_:Or__ she'll go insane.:_ Turaan commented, _:which, considering Hallie seems to have taken a shine to her, is probably a distinct possibility.:_

o-o-o-o-o

She stood nervously for a moment, then finally lowered herself onto a bench, her eyes on the table in front of her and her mind going over what she was about to say. Across from her, Gabriel's arms were crossed on the same table and he was watching her intently, obviously not going to leave her alone until he got an explanation. Leshie also thought that Niressa was pushing him into interrogating her as well, but she didn't have any proof of _that_ so she hadn't asked.

"You don't want your family to know you're here because of that arranged marriage thing."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Leshie was surprised by its accuracy.

_:That's__ probably it, Chosen.:_ Niressa told him, _:but there's bound to be more to it than just that.:_

_:That's__ what I figured.: _He waited for Leshie to respond, his eyes focused on her as she studied the table intensely, her hands in her lap and her gaze downcast. _She looks sad, not that I blame her. To go from being part of the wealthiest family in Valdemar to a common servant girl in a matter of three minutes…_

Niressa seemed to snort at the thought, but didn't say anything.

"If they find me," Leshie said finally, "they'll drag me back and make me marry, and I can't let them do that. If I'm here under the name Leshie Hamlin, at least I have a chance of keeping them off of my trail."

Gabriel closed his eyes with a sigh. "If Ellyn finds out that you lied to her, she won't be happy and neither will the Dean. They'll probably kick you and Aimee out, and then where would you be?"

She looked worried. "You wouldn't _tell_ them, would you?"

A long pause, then; "no… but you have three siblings who train here. How do you expect to avoid them? You won't be able to do it forever, and as soon as they know you're here they're bound to send word to your parents to ask about it."

Leshie hadn't thought of that. "But—" she faltered and tried again. "As soon as I talk to that Leftenant Malcam, I'll be in the Guard and then—"

"You're assuming you're going to get in." Gabriel interrupted gently, "you should think of all the different outcomes that could happen. What if you _aren't_ accepted? Then what will you do?"

Leshie was silent.

She had no idea what she would do if that problem arose. She couldn't stay at the Collegia indefinitely, because—as Gabriel had pointed out—Broderick, Sibley and Dolli were training in the same place. And he was right that she wouldn't be able to avoid them forever. So if she wasn't accepted into the Guard, she would have to—what? Leave Haven and try to find somewhere far enough away that her family couldn't find her? Go home and resign herself to a political marriage?

_I won't._ Her resolve was stronger than ever. _I'd rather die._

"Look," across from her, Gabriel leaned back and regarded her thoughtfully. "You can probably stay here for a week or two and maybe manage not to connect with your brothers or sister, so keep thinking about your options. I'll see about finding Leftenant Malcam and getting him to talk to you. If nothing else, I'll talk to Herald Lamont and try to convince him you're in need of asylum."

"You—"

"I'll try to help you, Leshie, but I don't know how much I can do."

_:No__ matter what, it's more than she would have had without you.:_ Niressa pointed out softly, and Gabriel could tell she was feeling more than a little sympathy for the girl he was currently talking to. _:You're__ a good boy.:_

_:Even__ if I'm one big walking hormone since I'm a teenager?:_

_:Of__ course.:_ She laughed softly, then: _:__Um, Gabriel, I know this is important to you and Leshie, but you have to be presented to the King Darrick…:_

_:Right__.:_ He nodded mentally and then spoke again, making Leshie—whose eyes had gone downward again—look back up from the table. "I have an appointment in the Court." He told her, "so I have to go. You should keep exploring and figuring out the lay of the Collegia, and I'll find you again after I'm done."

"Alright." She stood after him, managing a smile, though he was more than convinced she would rather have been crying. And when he started to head for the dining room door, she added; "…thanks…"

Gabriel forced a grin. "No problem."

He hoped the short statement would prove to be correct.

o-o-o-o-o

"Well, I don't know about you but this is my most hated part of being a Trainee."

Bri shrugged. "I've never had to do this before, so…"

But Mel groaned, "I have. When I was first picked to come to the Collegium. And we had to sit in on routine council sessions for our classes that dealt with politics, too. It's the most boring thing possible."

_:It'll__ only get worse, now that you're Chosen.:_ Arlam pointed with good-naturedly.

Mel stifled a scowl, and Bri had to chuckle—she was glad, though, that Lyntar wasn't trying to put his two cents in as well. She was still not pleased with having been up and dragged out of her life, and having him poking around her mind was _not_ her idea of fun. Really, if she could have been a Trainee _without_ the talking horse, she would have been more than fine with it.

The two of them were standing by the doors to the King's chambers. Not his Private Chambers, but the rooms where formal presentations were made. The Queen wasn't going to be present, Miri had told them, but the Prince and Princess were required to sit in on such formalities as a form of training.

Images of spoiled-rotten royal brats ran rampant in Bri's head, but she didn't mention them to anyone.

"Here he comes." Miri announced from the doorway, where she was peering down the hall on lookout for the third of the Trainees who was to be announced and presented along with Mel and Bri.

A moment later, Gabriel dashed into the room, looking slightly winded and muttering apologies which Miri waved off before straightening his collar for him and knocking tentatively on the doors to the inner Chambers.

After a second, the door creaked open and a Herald stuck his head out. "All present and accounted for?"

Miri nodded. "Three Trainees today, Lamont, and another tomorrow or the next day. That's one more than we've ever had before."

The Herald—Lamont—looked serious, but agreed. "Yes, but that's not necessarily a good thing, Mirim."

"Spoilsport."

"Hm."

She gestured vaguely toward him. "This is Herald Lamont Kiri, the King's Own Herald and the highest-ranking Herald in the circle. Lamont, these are Trainees Gabriel, Mel and Bri."

His eyes shifted among them, and then rested on Bri. "I heard about her from Yauvani."

Bri winced. This was the man who was Bonded to Yauvani? All she knew about the mare was that she had a terrible attitude problem, and she got the feeling that Lamont wasn't all that much better than his Companion. Still, she hoped that by giving him the benefit of the doubt she would prove herself wrong.

After another moment, Lamont waved a hand and another Herald spirited around him, and without waiting for instructions, approached Mel, who looked at her dubiously. Miri smiled and explained that Herald Jenica was going to Search them to find out what Gifts they had, so that they knew what to say when they were presented to the King.

"Mindspeech and Fetching." She murmured after a long few seconds of staring _through_ Mel. "Both at normal strength." Moving on, she repeated the process with Gabriel, proclaiming; "strong Mindspeech. Stronger than most… and a touch of the Healers Gift as well."

Interesting to know.

Bri waited as Herald Jenica's focus shifted to her, and shivered a bit when she felt the stirrings of someone else inside her thoughts with her. It wasn't Lyntar, that was for sure. She wasn't fond of him, but she was used to his presence at least. This touch was vague and distinctly _human_, and she had to assume that it was the Herald's mind brushing against hers.

A frown graced her lips, and Jenica pulled back suddenly, surprise showing in her eyes.

"Jenica, what is it?"

She turned to look at Lamont, still frowning worriedly, and everyone reacted with more than shock when she finally spoke, the words seeming to echo as if the silence that had descended upon the room made it cavernous.

"Lamont… this girl…" Jenica paused, seeming unsure of herself, then: "this girl has no Heraldic Gifts at all."


	6. This Is Me

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes: **Companion Eckran (and his Herald, Xarali) belong to etcetera-cat. :)

**Notes:** Guess what! I love this quirky little AU so much that I've decided to write (at least) two other stories in it! One that takes place before In Dreams (follows Jenica & Valerian and Samara & Aristides and deals with the Flame Wars) and one that takes place after In Dreams (this one follows some of the ID characters.)

**Rant #1:** *sigh* Okay, for those of us who weren't paying attention, _this is an Alternate Universe fanfiction!_ I am aware of the following: the fact that no one really knows what Companions are (in this, no one knows either), the fact that Companions look for their Chosen and not the other way around, and the fact that kiddies are trained after they are Chosen, and not before. But, to reiterate, this is an _AU fanfic_, which means that I changed some things, and though I'm infinitely proud to have received my first official Flame, I felt the need to point this out.

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter Five: This Is Me  
By Senashenta  
**

The water stared back at him, placid and flat and reflecting everything as he brooded gloomily at the edge of the Terilee. His eyes were half-focused on a non-existent something in the middle of the river, but he wasn't actually aware of anything around him, including the annoying blood flies of the season and the three tiny Spirit foals that were frolicking on the bank just down from him under the watchful eyes of some of the Herd mares. Unconsciously, his mind noted that they looked about due to be taken into the Pelagiris and raised by their soon-to-be-appointed surrogate mothers.

Lyntar had been stewing angrily ever since he had been permitted to leave the stable yard, and had wandered aimlessly around the Field getting odd looks from almost all of the Companions before finding himself by the river that ran through the corner of the field. Across the water was a sparse sprinkling of trees and bushes, in which some of his kind were enjoying the shade and effectively hiding from the sun.

_He_ was debating walking purposefully over and effectively planting himself in the farthest corner of the field that he could find. At least that way he would be away from the accusing eyes of those who were less than pleased with his actions.

Not that all of the Companions were against what he had done. Far from it, in fact: he was under the impression—though he might have been mistaken—that the numbers were basically even on both sides, for and against his cause.

Still, he wasn't feeling particularly _welcome_. What he was feeling was actually akin to having barged in uninvited on a party of some kind, and he wasn't enjoying being the outsider. He got the feeling he would have to get used to it, though.

To make matters worse, Bri still flatly refused to talk to him unless she had no choice. When he had Chosen her, he certainly hadn't expected her to dislike the idea and decide to hate him without question.

He was utterly alone, and doubted that any Companion in history had been quite as unwanted as he currently was.

_:It's__ not true, Lyn, and you know that… and you're broadcasting your distress across the whole Field.:_

He turned slowly, not really wanting to deal with anyone right at the moment but also knowing that he really had no choice. _:I'll make sure to reinforce my Shields.:_ He told Rella flatly, and got a small sense of satisfaction from the dry look the mare gave him. _:Leave__ me alone, Rella.:_

Her hide twitched in annoyance and she tipped her head toward another Companion, who was standing just behind her. The stallion looked familiar, but somehow Lyntar just couldn't place where he knew him from.

_:Eckran__ wanted to talk to you.:_ She told him, _:he and I both want to know about what's happening in the Pelagiris.:_

Lyntar's eyes moved from her to Eckran, then shifted to the Field behind them and the two other white forms that were moving steadily toward them. He knew Arlam right away, and the mare… he thought it might have been the one from the Gates, Niressa, but he could have been wrong. Luckily, he _could_ tell that it wasn't Yauvani, for which he was grateful.

He _definitely_ didn't want to deal with _her_ again so soon.

Rella turned her head to look toward the other two, and her ears flicked as her nostrils flared in the breeze before her attention returned to Lyntar. He had turned back to the Terilee and was staring blankly at the water. Again. Her eyes rolled. _:Lyntar__…:_ she said with a warning tone to her voice.

_:We've__ heard a bit about the situation in the Forest from Yauvani.:_ Eckran interrupted abruptly. His mindvoice was deeper and a bit rougher than any other Spirit or Companion Lyntar had encountered before. _:We're__ assuming that she got her information from the Elders, but we can't be entirely sure.:_

One of Lyntar's ears swivelled toward him as Arlam and Niressa slowed to a stop nearby to listen to whatever he said in response to the other stallion. They were even patient when he neglected to say anything immediately, probably assuming that he was thinking things through.

_:Yauvani__,:_ Rella said darkly, with a glance cast over her shoulder, _:has been known to keep things from us, when it concerns the Spirits.:_

_:I__ don't doubt that.:_ Lyntar replied finally, then lapsed into silence once more.

He knew he was being juvenile, but he couldn't help sulking, even if he knew what he was doing was right. Just because Yauvani and the Elders were against it didn't mean that he was in the wrong, after all… right? The entire situation was insanely frustrating, but even still (and despite his childish pouting) he intended to see it through.

He did wish, though, that Avalbane had come with him—he had asked, but the other stallion had only given him a flat and un-amused look and very quickly refused. He hadn't expected him to agree, really, but at least if Avalbane was there he would have had someone who was—

_:Oh__, for God's sake, Lyntar.:_ Rella snapped, making him jerk out of the somewhat dark train of thought. _:Would you get over it already? You're not alone, you're not unwanted, and you're not hated. What you _are_, is going to get kicked head first into the Terilee if you don't stop brooding and tell us what the hell is going on in the Pelagiris!:_

Lyntar stared at her, and he wasn't the only one doing so: Arlam and Niressa were gaping hugely at the mare. If they had been human, their jaws would have hung open. Eckran was looking amused, but respectful. Rella, meanwhile, was glaring at Lyntar and effectively ignoring everyone and everything else.

_:Start__ talking, Lyn.:_ She suggested, _:or you and the river will have an unwanted meeting.:_

His ears went back, and he sniffed. _:Fine.:_ And a few seconds later when Rella had stopped breathing down his neck and the others were looking a bit less nervous, he sighed. _:the short of it is that a few moons ago, Spirits began to disappear from the forest. They just vanished, at first, but after a while we learned it was the Shadows who were taking them.:_

_:Yes__, we heard that term before.:_ Eckran commented. _:What__ are these Shadows?:_

He was at a loss to explain that, since he didn't really know, and was about to say as much when Niressa spoke up, her ears perking. _:No one knows for sure,:_ she said, and beside her Arlam was nodding in agreement, _:they just appeared one day. We sort of assumed it was them who were responsible for the disappearances at first, until one night a vanishing was witnessed and we knew for sure.:_

Both Rella and Eckran were unreadable as they digested that, and Lyntar watched Niressa and Arlam silently. He was forgotten, in his fit of self-pity and wallowing, that they had only just come from the Pelagiris themselves. Unlike Rella and Eckran, who had come to Haven years before, Niressa and Arlam knew firsthand about the Shadows and the disappearances.

_:We__ started calling them Shadows because we couldn't tell what they were.:_ Arlam offered, _:I've never seen one, but I heard they were just Darkness and Smoke…:_

_:They look like people, I suppose.:_ Lyntar told them, _:or, they looked like they were about the same shape. You're right, though—they seem to be cloaked in shadows and mist.:_ He almost shivered at the thought, as images of Sashara being dragged into the night flashed through his mind, and everyone looked at him in surprise.

_:You've__ seen them?:_ Niressa wondered._ :When?:_

_:Shortly__ before I left to find Bri.:_ He responded, lowering his head toward the river. Crystal eyes reflected in the water, and he blinked slowly, and then turned back toward them. _:A good friend of mine was taken. That was when I decided I would do something about it.:_

_:Oh__…:_ Niressa said weakly, trailing off.

_:Well__ from what I hear, it's about _time _someone got down to business.:_ Eckran snorted, and shook his mane in annoyance. _:The Elders are so busy dilly-dallying and dancing around the Customs that they won't do anything to stop the Shadows. And we're supposed to just let the damned things take us all? I think not.:_

At that point, Lyntar decided he definitely liked the other stallion.

_:In__ any case,:_ Rella began thoughtfully, _:your decision obviously resulted in you and Brianna coming here… but what can she do to help defeat the Shadows that Aterya and the other Elders can't?:_

It was hard to explain…

_:Well__ for one thing,:_ Arlam reminded her for Lyntar, _:she and Lyntar aren't bound by the Old Ways__, right? So if they aren't worried about Tradition and Custom, they can do a lot more.:_

_:I__ told you.:_ Eckran stamped a hoof. _:Dilly__-dallying.:_

Lyntar looked to Rella. _:Bri has—:_

A strange feeling made him pause, and it took him a moment to identify where it was coming from. Confusion, concern, embarrassment—it was coming down the Bond that had formed between himself and Bri, despite the fact that she didn't seem to want it. And the connection was so new he had to actually think about it before he realized where the emotions were flowing from.

_What could be going on..?_

o-o-o-o-o

"We're going to have to present her anyway." Miri shrugged, "Gifts or no Gifts, she's Chosen, so we have no choice but to—"

"She was Chosen wrongly." Lamont reminded the other Herald, "so—"

But Miri interrupted, rather coldly at that. "Lamont, you know as well as I do that there's no such _thing_ as a wrong Choice." Her arms crossed, and for the first time since they had met, Bri saw the older woman looking seriously annoyed. "Whatever Yauvani is telling you doesn't change that fact, and I hate to question a Companion but she seems to have a preconceived opinion on both Brianna _and_ Lyntar that is seriously impairing her judgment in the matter."

"I… don't really know what's going on," Herald Jenica commented, "but I'm sure I can get it out of Valerian later. Still," she frowned and looked toward Lamont, "I _do_ know that Miri is right—there had never been a wrong Choosing, and I have to say there is a definite doubt that there ever could be."

Lamont was silent for a moment, and it was more than obvious he was having a private conversation with Yauvani. Bri, who had already decided she didn't like the mare, and was less than impressed with her Chosen, glanced toward Miri, who continued to stare seriously in Lamont's direction.

_:In case any of you were wondering,:_ a Mindvoice told them all, and some of those present could immediately recognize the voice as Miri's Turaan, _:I have already taken it upon myself to inform the King of the situation, and he wants Brianna presented as any other Trainee would be, so there is nothing to discuss.:_

Miri looked entirely too smug as she replied with, _:and__ that, Ran, is why I adore you.:_

_:Well, I wouldn't have done it if Aristides and Wray hadn't persuaded me to.:_ Turaan admitted, _:though now I'm glad I did, since Yauvani seems to have Lamont already convinced that Bri should be next thing to kicked out of the Collegium.:_

The aforementioned Herald had compressed his lips into a thin line as Turaan spoke, and it was again easy to tell that Yauvani was talking to him. And probably filling his head with self-righteous babble while she was at it, from his expression.

Bri sighed and wished she could go back to the inn.

She didn't really want to, of course, but she was beginning to think _anywhere_ was better than standing in a room with Lamont Kiri while a Companion who outright hated (or, at least disapproved of) her ranted in his head. Since the revelation of her seeming _lack_ of Gifts, she had been standing in exactly the same place while Miri argued with Lamont, and both Mel and Gabriel watched silently from their own appointed standing-spots.

She was a little embarrassed by the entire scene, but wouldn't have admitted that to anyone. She was also confused, since she had been under the impression that there was no way you could be Chosen if you didn't have Gifts. Not that it was really possible to be Chosen without being a Trainee and going On Hunt, either…

And she was a little concerned, as—despite her generally cheerful outlook—Herald Mirim was very quickly losing her patience with Lamont and somehow, underneath her positive personality, Bri could just imagine a temper to reckon with.

_As if I would know._

Lyntar's mind brushed against hers with a questioning feeling, and she immediately reacted without thinking, sending a _get lost_ feeling in his direction, and he gave a very obvious mental sigh before fading away again.

She almost felt bad, since he had only been asking what was wrong.

_Ooooh no._ Bri shook her head slightly; _he gets no kindness from me. Not after wandering into my life and happily kicking it topsy-turvy without so much as a by-your-leave. Not in this lifetime, anyway._

Finally, Lamont growled something under his breath and headed for the door to the inner chambers. When he reached it, he straightened his shoulders and seemed to compose himself before jerking it open and stepping though with a gesture to Miri, who motioned for the new Heraldic Trainees to follow her.

Looking nervous despite himself, Gabriel hurried after the Heralds, followed by Mel and Bri, with Jenica ushering them through and then closing the door behind them all. Once inside, Lamont quickly took a place beside the King, who was a tall dark-haired man with wiser-than-his-age eyes.

Next to him were the Prince and Princess…

…who…

…were…

Bri gasped, making everyone look at her in surprise, and before anyone else could speak—though Miri winced—she demanded, "Hallie, you're the _Princess_?!"

o-o-o-o-o

They had only been on the road for a day, and he was already beginning to tire of way food. Of course, he _had _been eating it for a week already, while he waited and went about his Hunt, before he had been Chosen.

Dragan poked halfheartedly at his bread and then looked toward Cheyne, who was more than happily grazing nearby. The Companion amazed him in every way, he admitted, but despite her exceptional speed they weren't quite out of the forest.

_I shouldn't have wandered so far in for my Hunt. She could have found me if I'd stayed near the edges, right?_

_:I__ could have.:_ Cheyne agreed without looking up from her meal. _:But I like that you came to me instead. It's a good show of initiative.:_

"Stupidity, you mean?"

Yellow laughter, _:by__ no means, Fire Child. I just enjoyed taking my time looking for you. If you'd been near the outskirts, I'd have had to hurry.:_

"You're lazy, do you know that?"

Cheyne's ears flicked. _:I'm__ also gorgeous, but that's beside the point.:_

Dragan sighed and dropped the bread back into his pack, deciding he wasn't really hungry after all, then leaned back in the grass and crossed his arms behind his head. Dark eyes watched the moon, which was just beginning to show as the sun began to set, red on the horizon.

Then a leaf crackled.

Though _he_ was inclined to ignore it, Cheyne's head came up abruptly and her sapphire gaze shifted across the trees, probing into the shadows between them. Her ears went back, and Dragan frowned.

"Cheyne, what—?"

_:We__ should go, Dragan.:_ She said, sounding strained. _:I'm__ not tired, anyway, so let's keep going and try to get as much traveling done as possible tonight.:_

Confused, he nodded vaguely and began to sit up—

And just as he did, Cheyne's eyes focused on something in the gloom, and a dark shape manifested from the darkness, flying toward her without a sound—the silence was only shattered when she reared, her eyes rolling, and shrieked loudly, her voice echoing through the forest around them.

"_Cheyne!_"

Dragan was on his feet in an instant, as Cheyne whirled, kicking, then stopped. The Shadow advanced on her, darkness seeping from nowhere and wrapped in a strange mist, and she danced in place, unsure of what to do—

—everything in her nature was telling her to flee—

—but Dragan—

_:Chosen__, run!:_

"But—"

Her head snapped around as another Shadow materialized, flowing from between the trees and joining the first. She reared again, kicking, and then her hooves hit the ground loudly as Dragan hesitated, not willing to abandon her but unsure of what he could do against—whatever they were.

_:Run__, damn it!:_

His feet wouldn't move, despite the plaintive tone in her Mindvoice as she backed away from the Shadows, her hooves skittering through the leaves and grass and her ears pinned to her head.

One of them reached out—

_:RUN__!:_

And a wall of flame burst into existence between it and Cheyne, making the mare snort and shy away from the intense heat. Her eyes flew to her Chosen, who was holding a hand toward her, his own eyes blazing with an almost unholy light.

The Shadows paused, and before they could continue again Cheyne bunched her muscles and _leapt_, bounding through the fire, which singed her hair on the way past, and forcing her way past them with a combination of running, bucking, and kicking—though her hooves didn't connect with anything solid.

Throwing up tufts of grass, she skidded to a stop next to Dragan, then force-helped him onto her back with her nose and burst into a wild gallop, trailing smoke from the fire that was still blazing behind them and leaving the Shadows to fade back into the depth of the Pelagiris Forest.

o-o-o-o-o

Avalbane raised his head and cocked his ears as a scream echoed in the twilight—he didn't recognize the voice, but he could tell it was a Spirit, female, and when silence descended after the shriek he had to assume it was too late to do anything to help her.

Sadly, he closed his eyes for a moment. _I hope Lyn manages what he's gone off to do… because we won't last very much longer if he doesn't._

o-o-o-o-o

Despite the fact that it was very much against Royal Protocol, Princess Hallette Montenegro was bordering on hysterical laughter, holding her side with one hand and covering her mouth with the other while tears leaked from her eyes and her father and brother watched her in amazement.

The look on Bri's face had just been too priceless…

For the first time since she had arrived, Bri herself was showing an amazing amount of embarrassment, which had followed immediately after her original outburst. Now, she seemed torn between hiding her face (which was a bright shade of cherry-red) and continuing to gape at Hallie.

"Oh," wiping at her eyes, Hallie sighed and looked down at Bri, then began to giggle again. "You… look like… like a landed fish…"

To the side, Miri was trying _not_ to laugh and keep her dignity about her, despite the scene. The King was watching his daughter with an eyebrow cocked, trying to decide when would be a good time to jump in, and Prince Reiley was rolling his eyes at Hallie's antics. Next to Bri, Mel was looking slightly confused and Gabriel was too busy wincing at her expense to do much else.

_:Perhaps__ you should have told her _before _coming in here?:_ Turaan suggested.

Miri's lips quirked. _:It__ makes for an interesting court session, and those are rare to say the least.:_

_:Touché__.:_

King Darrick cleared his throat. "Hallie, if you don't mind…"

"S-sorry…" the Princess snickered, then took several deep breaths and returned to her chair, still giggling under her breath, though now she was trying to be discreet about it. Which, naturally, just made the entire laughter thing more obvious. "maybe I… should go outside for a minute…"

Her father sighed. "You're excused for the time being."

"T-thank you…"

She was on the verge of breaking into hiccups, but rose again anyway and quickly shuffled down and across the room. On the way past Bri, though, the giggling returned and her pace quickened until Herald Jenica quickly opened the door (she, too, has a strange quirk as she tried not to laugh) and then closed it after Hallie once the girl was safely beyond.

_:Laughter__ is a good first impression.:_ Lyntar commented, his voice reaching the three new Heraldic Trainees, but no one else. _:It__ could have been much worse.:_

Though Bri's annoyance returned at that, Arlam quickly piped up with; _:even__ if they decide not to make Bri a Herald, she could always stay on as the Court Jester.:_

_:Arlam__…:_ Mel warned.

_:Sorry__.:_

And then Niressa added, _:you three are no fun.:_

About that time, Lamont cleared his throat loudly and they all jerked their attention back toward the front of the room, where King Darrick and Prince Reiley were waiting patiently. Both of them looked amused, though, and as Hallie's laughter could still be heard faintly through the wall, it wasn't surprising.

There was a long moment of relative silence then, during which the King studied each of the perspective Heralds in turn. His gaze lingered the longest on Bri, but if what Turaan had said was true, then he was already aware of the differences between her and the other Trainees.

For the first time since she had arrived, Bri became acutely aware that she wasn't even wearing the Grays that were traditional for Heraldic Trainees, and she wished that Miri had gotten around to getting her uniforms before they had been called to the Court for the presentation.

_Not that wearing the Grays will make me fit in any better…_

"The first Trainee?"

She assumed the entire "ceremony" had started when the King asked that simple question, and Jenica stepped forward to respond with, "Heraldic-Trainee Gabriel Maxwell, Chosen by the mare Niressa."

"And his Gifts?"

"Mindspeech, your Majesty." Jenica replied solemnly, "strong Mindspeech. He may end up being the strongest Mindspeaker in the Circle by the time his training is through."

Gabriel gave a visible start. He obviously hadn't been expecting that.

Jenica continued with, "he also has an inkling of the Healers Gift."

King Darrick nodded. "Congratulations, Gabriel Maxwell. You will make a fine Herald someday."

Or, so everyone assumed.

Gabriel stared blankly for a second before managing to form a semblance of a bow and stammered, "t-thank you, your Majesty."

A nod. "The next Trainee, Herald-Dean Jenica?"

"Emeli Melquiades Truant, Chosen by the stallion Arlam."

_:I__ love it when people say that.:_ Arlam put in semi-privately, though by Miri's surprised blink she had heard him. Other than her, no one besides the three currently-standing teenagers were aware of what he had said.

_:What__?:_ Niressa asked.

_:When__ people say "the stallion Arlam".:_ He clarified, _:it makes me sound important.:_

_:Which__ you aren't?:_ Lyntar joked.

Arlam sputtered. _:That's__ not what I meant, and you know it—:_

_:Hush__, all of you!:_ Miri reprimanded mentally, finally drawing the line in the Companions cheerful banter, and they all gave a semi-grudging agreement before fading into silence again.

"—what may her Gifts be?"

"General Mindspeech, as well as Fetching, Majesty."

"Ah." A nod, "congratulations to you as well, Emeli Truant, and welcome."

Mel was monumentally more composed than Gabriel had been, and gave a short bow of her own. "Thank you."

The King's eyes drifted to Bri. "And the third?"

Jenica hesitated, then, "Brianna Osias, my Lord, Chosen by… by the stallion Lyntar."

"Her Gifts, Herald?"

Another hesitation. "That… is still under debate, Majesty." She told him, "we have yet to conclusively decide on the nature of her Gifts, but you have my word that as soon as we do, I will inform you."

Bri found it difficult to face the King, knowing that what Jenica had told him was a half-truth. It was almost as bad as lying to him herself, and she knew that would classify under "treason" in the law. Of course, Jenica may have been telling the truth, if she had reason to suspect that Bri's Gifts were… hiding. Or something.

_It's a long shot, but…_

King Darrick's mouth twisted into an almost-frown and he nodded. "Be sure that you do, Herald Jenica."

And he said nothing more.

o-o-o-o-o

She was utterly, completely, totally and undeniably lost. She had been wandering around in circles (as far as she could tell) ever since Gabriel had left, and she couldn't think of a thing she could do about it. So she stopped walking to survey the corridor and think for a second. Unfortunately, that did little good, as every hallway in the Collegium looked basically the same.

Frustrated, Leshie kicked the nearest wall and then plopped down on one of the marble benches that she had found in nearly every hall of the building. _Leave it to courtiers to need rest stations in their hallways._

How was she supposed to attend to whatever duties Ellyn assigned her if she couldn't even find her way around the Heraldic Collegium? _Never mind_ the Bardic and Healers Collegia, which she had yet to even see…

Or, she thought she had yet to see them.

_I could be _in_ them for all I know…_

Still sulking, she crossed her arms and glared at the opposite wall, slumping against the concrete behind her and wondering why in the hell she had agreed to—wait, never mind. She had been over this with herself before, and had come to the Needing To Eat conclusion.

It wasn't that she had a problem with working around the Collegia—she was more than happy to do scrubbing if it meant she could stay. She wasn't even _really_ upset because she was lost, though it was a damn annoying inconvenience, she would admit.

The biggest thing that was bothering her was the idea that she had run away and left so many loose ends: she was still dwelling on her conversation with Gabriel, and she had been kicking herself ever since he had left.

_I'm so stupid! What was I thinking, coming here? With Broderick and Sibley and Dolli… they're _bound _to see me, and then Father will find out and come here, and I'll be dragged back home and married to that old man._ Growling, she heaved an aggravated sigh. _I should have gone for the border instead… if I had managed to get across into Karse or…_

The thought died quickly when she remembered the recent Wars—if she had chanced running for the border, she would have had more to worry about than just her family finding her. Indeed, she would have probably been killed on sight. And, if she had managed to sneak both herself _and_ Aimee across into Karse, she would have had to live as a fugitive.

_So which is better? Living as a fugitive in another country, or living here and having to scurry around hoping that no one recognizes me?_ Leshie wondered. _Maybe I could still leave… if not for the border, then I could go toward Hevenbeck. Aimee and I could hide out in the forest for a while…_

And die of starvation, probably. She was good with a sword, but she was no hunter, and not really a survivalist either. She and her horse would probably manage for about two weeks before she had to return to civilization.

_We'll call going to the Pelagiris "Plan B"._

"You're looking a tad lost, if you don't mind my saying so."

She looked up, surprised by the voice, and found she was no longer alone in the corridor. Standing a few feet away was a man in faded Whites, who was currently leaning against the wall and chuckling at her expense. Aside from his uniform, the most obvious thing about him was a set of four parallel scars that ran down the right side of his face. They looked old, but not: they were fully healed, but still had an almost raw appearance about them.

"Where are you trying to get to? Maybe I can help."

Leshie frowned. "I'm just… trying to get a handle on the layout of the Collegia, since I'm going to be working here starting tomorrow…" she shrugged, "I'm a bit lost, I guess, but I've got to get used to the halls sometime, right?"

He tipped his head, "you _can't_ be the new servant girl that Ellyn was telling me about…"

A blink, "what?"

"Leshie Hamlin, right?" He raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, "I'm just surprised. Most of the servants are a bit more demure than you are." He laughed, "not that they couldn't use some livening up, but… ah, I digress."

Leshie wasn't exactly sure what to make of him. He seemed nice enough, and there was something about him that was familiar. But… he had such a _rough_ exterior that it was a bit disturbing.

"Anyway," he pushed away from the wall, "Leshie, my name is Quinlan Harmon, and I am the Weaponsmaster around here."

Well, that explained why he felt semi-familiar to her—in her experience, most of the Weaponsmaster-types had a similar feel to them. This man, Quinlan, didn't really remind her of Finlay, but he had a comfortable energy anyway.

_I guess I'll always gravitate toward those types of people._ She sighed and stood, "you're assuming that I _am_ Leshie Hamlin," she chastised, though she was beginning to smile, and when he looked uncertain for a moment she waved a hand. "And you're right. It's a pleasure to meet you, Herald Quinlan."

Quinlan grinned, a strange sight given his scars. "Likewise, Leshie Hamlin. And please, call me Quin."

o-o-o-o-o

"You're the one I was looking for!"

Startled, Lyntar's head swung around and he stared, uncomprehending, at the man who was currently approaching. He seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, but the stallion had to assume that he had actually started out at the other end of the Field and walked over.

Having been forced out of the majority of his depression by Rella, Lyntar had decided that conversing with Arlam and Niressa was more interesting than brooding anyway, and they had begun to discuss various things. This had lead to eventually popping in to bother those in the Court, but Herald Mirim had kicked them out (and they had been lectured by Turaan shortly after) so they had eventually settled on the topic of grass.

To be more specific, the grass of Haven compared to the grass of the Pelagiris.

Haven's was better by far.

The three of them were still standing at the edge of the Terilee, though Eckran and Rella had departed. Across the river, though, another Companion was grazing, and occasionally poked his nose into their conversation.

From what Lyntar had gathered, his name was Aristides and he was Bonded to the Herald who taught basic equestrian to the Collegium students. And now, it was Ari who gave them the warning: _:oh no… it's Fradrick.:_

Niressa looked across the water at him, _:um, is that a problem?:_

_:Fradrick__ is from the Bardic Collegium,:_ Ari explained, _:let's just say he has an… enthusiastic curiosity when it comes to Companions. Or, when it comes to Spirits. Whenever a new Companion arrives from the __Forest he quizzes them about… well, everything.:_

_:Oh__.:_

The three of them turned to look in the Bard's direction, as Ari continued. Had they been focused on him, they would have seen him backing away discreetly to put a bit more distance between himself and the oncoming man.

_:He'll__ probably be on the lookout for you, Lyntar, since it's already all over the Collegia that you brought in someone who wasn't On Hunt.:_ Ari gave a mental snort. _:Prepare__ for a long day with Fradrick following you around and taking notes.:_

_Great. _Lyntar eyed the man warily. He couldn't possibly be as bad as Aristides was trying to tell them he was… could he? Upon consideration, he decided that he would just have to decide for himself, and bobbed his head in greeting when Fradrick finally made it to where they were standing. _:Greetings__, Bard Fradrick.:_

"You would be Lyntar, would you?"

_:Yes__, though some people call me "Lyn".:_ Lyntar nodded again, _:this is Arlam and Niressa… we've all just arrived in Haven, having—:_

"Great! " Fradrick interrupted. "So tell me—have things in the Pelagiris changed since the last Hunt season? What's this I hear about the Spirits being in danger? Is it true? Is that why you brought that girl here? The one who isn't a Trainee? How can she help? What Gifts does she have? What do you plan on doing once you—"

Lyntar gaped as the trail of questions went on and on, and across the Terilee Aristides snickered in his general direction.

o-o-o-o-o

Well…

Things could have gone worse, Bri supposed. The King hadn't really questioned Jenica's statement, and though he had seemed very willing to say something, Lamont had stayed out of it. After the final minutes of the ceremony, Miri had very politely excused herself and the trainees, and had ushered them all out of the room.

Outside, Hallie had again begun snickering, though she managed to compose herself fairly quickly, and returned to the Court to watch the rest of the proceedings with her brother.

Miri had immediately summoned someone to take them to the Heraldic-Trainee's Wing of the Collegium and their rooms, and Mel and Gabriel had gone off to transfer the last of their belongings to their new quarters.

Which left Bri, who had brought next to nothing with her, to get used to her room and arrange it the way she wanted it—which she did, and gladly. It was the first time since her family had been killed that she had been given a room to call her own, and she was determined to enjoy every second if it.

_Even if they _do _decide to exile Lyntar and myself…_

Surprisingly, the thought of the Companion didn't bring up an immediate surge of annoyance, but she shrugged it off as a fluke and continued setting her meagre possessions around the room: a single book for the shelves, a couple of shirts and a skirt for the closet and a tightly-sealed inkpot for the desk. There was already paper in the drawers, so that was taken care of.

The only other thing she had brought with her—and really the only thing that she still had from her life before the brothel—was a pendant she had salvaged from the wreckage of her family's farmhouse.

It wasn't special, it wasn't important and it wasn't expensive. It was a tacky trinket that had been hanging around the house for as long as Bri could remember, and her mother had never worn it. She didn't even know where it had originally come from. But… tacky or not, it _had_ belonged to her mother, so she had kept it.

Now, she hung it from the corner of the bookshelves, a tiny shard of memories in a room full of nothing.

A knock on the door made her look away from the necklace, "come in."

The door creaked open, and a head poked around the corner; "Housekeeper Ellyn asked me to come and take your measurement for your new uniform, miss, so if you don't mind I'll just—uh—" she faltered, then; "Bri? Is that you?"

It was the last thing she had ever expected, but Bri couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as she flung herself at the other girl and hugged her tightly, "Jemeste! How—I mean—when—what are you _doing_ _here?_"

The other former-brothel worker was floored. "I… could ask the same thing of you!"


	7. Borderline Angel

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** Healer Erlyn belongs to etcetera-cat, who seriously did an awesome job filling out the Collegia in this AU lol.

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter Six: Borderline Angel  
By Senashenta**

"Cheyne—"

_:What?:_

"We need to stop."

_:No.:_

"You're about to fall over."

_:I'm fine.:_

"No, you're—"

_:Dragan!:_ Cheyne's ears snapped back and her voice made him wince, then she softened and her stride broke as she half-stumbled to a stop, her hooves scraping along the cobblestone road that they had reached candlemarks before. _:I'm sorry, I shouldn't be shouting but… I just want to put as much distance between us and the forest as possible.:_

Dragan shook his head, "it's okay, I'm just saying… you're tired, you know? You're a Companion, but you still need to rest—you've been running for hours! We can stop and take a break, and then keep on going."

_:Chosen…:_

"We don't even have to stop for long! We can just take five minutes and then head out, but if we don't stop you'll probably pass out while I'm on your back," he added after a moment of thought, "and then you'll fall on me and I'll be crushed." He seemed to be getting into the half-joking groove, and gave a laugh, "so you really want that? A crushed firestarter?"

_:Haven forbid.:_ Cheyne sighed, then nodded reluctantly. _:I suppose you're right.:_

"Good." Dragan groaned, "because I think _I_ need a rest as much as you do—I had no idea riding bareback was so hard!" She snorted softly, and he paused, looking around, "seems to me there's a Waystation around here somewhere… assuming we are where I think we are."

_:Assuming?:_

"Well, I kind of lost track. Trees all look the same when you're moving so fast they're blurred together."

_:I see.:_

He shrugged, "I know you don't want to spend the night out in the woods, but we're away from the Pelagiris, so…" she twitched and seemed about to say something, and he continued before she could say a word: "we're on a real road now, at least, right? So keep going. I think we're bordering on Hevenbeck, and even if we're not exactly where I think we are, we're bound to find _something_."

_:My Chosen the Eternal Optimist.:_

"I try."

Cheyne made a sniffing sound and started forward once more, this time at a sedate walk. On her back, Dragan was pleased that he had managed to get through to her—he had been trying for a while, but her panic had completely drowned out his words and she had continued, heedless of his warnings.

Now she was dripping lather and breathing heavily, and even if she wouldn't admit it, he could feel her legs shaking with every step.

He hadn't been joking—if she hadn't stopped, she probably _would _have fallen over.

And he couldn't help but wonder what could possibly frighten her that much, Of course, he had seen the attack but he still had no idea what, really, was going on. The only thing he knew for sure was that Cheyne's life had been in danger. If those _things_, whatever they were, had managed to get a hold on her…

_So what the hell were they, anyway..?_

o-o-o-o-o

"Okay, you go first."

Bri was silent for a moment, then dropped into her bed with a heaved sigh (which actually bordered on a groan) and flung her arms to the sides as she pondered exactly what she was going to tell her.

To say that she was happy to see Jemeste was an understatement of the most obvious kind. The other girl had been a good friend and roommate of hers for nearly two years, and then had just _vanished_.Bri had come back to the room after her shift and Jemeste's bed had been occupied by someone else. When she'd asked about her friend's disappearance all she'd received was a smack for her trouble.

And now, to find her in Haven at the Collegium…

"Well, I guess I'm here because I'm going to be a Herald."

Jemeste looked confused, "but you're not a Trainee—"

"I know." Bri agreed dryly, "but try telling that to the glorified palfrey out there in the Field."

"But—"

"Look, I'm stuck here for now so I'm going to try to make the best of it." She forced a grin, but then continued with interested that didn't have to be feigned: "but Jemeste, _you_… how in the world did _you_ get _here_ of all places? No one would tell me what happened to you when you left! You were just _gone_ one day."

The other girl smiled softly and tugged at the hem of her uniform, which was a dark shade of blue and bore an unfamiliar crest on one arm. "The day that I left… do you remember, when we got ready for our shifts that day, and the Master brought me to the man who was wearing the red wool cloak?"

Bri nodded. She did recall vaguely, but didn't really remember much besides the cloak itself and the fact that he had been relatively tall. Of course, Jemeste didn't expect her to remember him completely—one customer blurred into another when you had a quota to make every night.

"He was… unpleasant." Jemeste made a face, "he took me off to his room at the inn—not our "inn" but the _actual_ inn—and afterward, he got violent." When Bri gave her a questioning look, she shook her head, "I really don't know why—but you know sometimes people are just like that."

Bri couldn't see where Jemeste was going with her explanation. How could a violent patron be the cause for her ending up in Haven, working at the Palace? Still, there had to be a reason for her current job, so Bri kept her mouth shut to let the other girl finish.

_:Good choice.:_

_Go away._

"—he had been knocking me around for a couple of minutes, but I hadn't done anything yet... I'd had it happen to me before, but they always calmed down, so I guess I was hoping that he would get it out of his system and leave me alone." She bit her lip for a second, frowning, "but he didn't. He just kept at it—hitting me—until I couldn't help but make some noise. I suppose I was crying, but it's kind of a blur. Anyway, I must have screamed or something, because the next thing I knew the door flew open and _he_ was there."

"Uh, _he_—?"

"Herald Jestel." Jemeste clarified, a suspiciously giddy tone to her voice, "he had been down in the tavern under the inn. Hesharte was outside, and when I screamed she heard me and got him to go check on me."

She seemed to be doing nothing but asking questions. "Who's Hesharte?"

"Jestel's Companion. She's very nice. It's because of her that Jestel came and rescued me, and he was so nice to me, you know? I wasn't used to it, being a brothel girl… he made sure I was dressed and saw a Healer, and got me something to eat and drink, and before I knew it I was sitting down in the tavern telling him my life story." A sigh, "he ended up taking me back to Haven with him. Said he couldn't leave me there to work for the Master anymore… I kind of appointed myself as his servant, and I've been here ever since."

It was strange, really, to see Jemeste so _happy_. She had been quiet and reserved when Bri had known her before, and now… she was still quiet, but she was healthy and very obviously enjoying her life.

_I wonder if I could ever be like that… just… happy._

_:Some day.:_ Lyntar told her softly, much to her annoyance, _:some day you'll be happy. You'll be a Herald, you'll be happy, and you'll be able to go back to that "inn" and do for the rest of the girls what Jestel did for Jemeste.:_

Bri didn't even bother to tell him to bug off, as he seemed to have no interest whatsoever in doing it. Every time she shoved him away he just came back. Like a puppy following her home, and it was more than a little aggravating. A puppy would have been less trouble… and a hell of a lot quieter, too.

_:Puppies make messes on the rug.:_ The stallion pointed out, _:and I'm already completely housetrained.:_

So what? Puppies didn't insist on yakking inside her brain all the time.

A moment of silence was followed by what almost felt like amusement, and Lyntar again faded from her thoughts. Angrily, Bri decided that the next time she saw him in person, she would have a chat with him about invading her personal space.

_My mind is _mine_, damn it._ Shaking her head, she managed a smile; "Herald Jestel sounds like a wonderful person."

"He is!" Jemeste exclaimed, and Bri could tell that he was her friend's favourite topic of discussion by the almost blinding twinkle in her eyes. "He's the nicest man I've ever met, which is why I won't let them make me a general servant… but when Jestel doesn't need me, I help Ellyn out around the Collegium. Which is why I'm here!" Seeming to remember her duties now, she held up the measuring chords she was carrying draped across one arm, "I need to take your measurements so that Ellyn can get uniforms made up for you."

"Uh, right."

She had forgotten, but now Jemeste quickly pulled her up from where she was sitting. And suddenly there was a whirlwind of movement while the other girl measured her in every possible way and scribbled down notes on a random piece of paper she had produced from who-knew-where.

_So…__ I've been Chosen by an annoying white pony, dragged off to Haven, met the Princess without even realizing it, made into an example of everything you _shouldn't _do and be, made a fool of myself in front of the King himself, run into a long-lost friend, and now I'm being fitted for a uniform that resembles a blindingly radiant target._

Collegium life certainly was interesting.

o-o-o-o-o

Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with him and Lyntar figured he might as well make the best of it. This abrupt change of tune came as a result of Rella's lectures (which actually resembled threats more) and reminders by both Arlam and Niressa that he _did_ have a reason for Choosing her in the first place. And a damned good one at that.

So he was going to enjoy the fact that he was in Haven, as far away from the Elders as he was ever likely to get, and munch on the surprisingly tasty grass of Companion's Field in and around avoiding Yauvani and her cult of anti-Lyntar worshippers.

If he ever escaped from Bard Fradrick and his questions, that is.

"—but if it's true that Spirits are envoys from the Gods, then why are they allowed to get sick or die? Is the answer to that in any way related to why they live out in the Pelagiris in the first place? For that matter, do the Spirits out there get sick at all? Because I was thinking that maybe there's a correlation between the fact that Companions seem to be able to become ill and have young and the fact that they live in Haven and among humans. Do you think that it might be possible that—"

Lyntar didn't bother to point out that Spirits were born in the wild as often as they were born in Haven, if not more. That, he decided, would just give the man more ammunition and more to ramble about.

_Bright Lady… I didn't think someone could talk like _that _and not pass out…_

Fradrick had been talking in one long, drawn out sentence for some time, and Lyntar was not alone in wondering just when he managed to breathe. Indeed, Niressa and Arlam were staring openly at the Bard, who didn't seem to need (or even necessarily want) feedback from them. He appeared to be more than content to converse with thin air: probably as an excuse to go over this varied and numerous theories regarding the origin of Spirits and the differences between them and Companions.

_What differences?_

Across the Terilee, Aristides seemed to pick up on that thought, and snickered while trying to look innocent. He had been chortling away from the relative safety of Behind The River ever since Fradrick's arrival. _:I did warn you.:_ He pointed out, _:if you didn't make an immediate retreat, that's your fault and not mine.:_

_:Is he… _always _like this?:_ Arlam asked incredulously.

_:Of course.:_ Ari sniffed, amused by his expression. _:Fradrick there is the resident "expert" on all things Spirit-related. So naturally he makes it his business to confront each and every new arrival from the Pelagiris.:_ He paused then, and where silence would have reigned, Fradrick's voice continued to sound. _:He's harmless, really, and quite lovable if you can get him to stop talking long enough to get a word in edgewise. I think he's lovemate to Healer Erlyn.:_

_:Havens!:_ Niressa gasped, _:he actually _lives_ with someone?: _

At that, Ari gave a semi-surprised snort as he choked down laughter—and everyone turned to look at him, he attempted to pretend he was grazing, which only made his choking-giggling-snuffling all the more apparent.

Fradrick blinked, then shook his head and continued where he had left off.

_:As I said,:_ Ari managed after a moment, _:he's a nice fellow when he's not talking your ear off, and he's really only like this with new Spirits—or, Companions. Samara tells me that when he's with other humans he's a normal person. Or, as normal as _anyone _is around here.:_

Lyntar sighed. _:Why do I find that hard to believe?:_

He supposed it was possible. Even in the Spirit community there were those who had things they were excited about. Sashara, before she had been taken, had been fascinated by the Tayledras and their Bondbirds and had spent a good amount of time searching them out so fulfill her curiosity.

Most likely, the Fradrick he was now confronted with was the one who couldn't wait to ask his questions and—possibly—get answers. The problem being that he didn't let anyone get a word into the conversation. If he was like this with Healer Erlyn then she had to be the most tolerant woman in Valdemar.

_Maybe it's a good thing that Bri doesn't talk to me._ He was beginning to consider becoming the Companion equivalent of a cloister priestess. _Which I'm sure my __Chosen__ would love, since I'd be locked up in a little brick room for the rest of my life…_

It was about that time when he realized he was next thing to alone with Fradrick. Blinking, he looked around rather frantically until he managed to locate Arlam and Niressa, who had managed to nonchalantly drift off toward the stables, little-by-little. He glared at them for a moment, his eyes boring into first the other stallion's skull and then the mare's, while the Bard continued to ramble on and on and on and on—

_:You!:_ Lyntar snapped, _:some friends you are!:_

Both of them gave him Innocent Eyes and proceeded to continue edging away, while Aristides broke down into hysterical equine-laughter from across the Terilee. The few Companions who were on the other side of the river with him watched with apparent confusion, and probably wondered if he had gone completely stark-raving mad.

_:Terribly sorry, Lyntar.:_ Niressa apologized finally, but still turned, flicking her tail, and headed toward the stable with Arlam in tow, _:but Gabriel and Mel are on their way outside, and I don't know about Arlam but _I _intend to bully my Chosen into a good grooming.:_

_:I've never _been _groomed before.:_ Arlam added, _:but it sounds rather nice.:_

_:It does!: _Niressa agreed, _:just one of the many perks of living in Haven.:_

_:Along with the grass.:_

_:Yes, and the lack of Shadows.:_

_:That is _definitely _a perk.:_

_:I couldn't agree more.:_

Lyntar continued to glare in their general direction for a few seconds, listening to them banter cheerfully, before heaving a sigh and turning back to Fradrick. The man had gone off on some tangent about the dietary differences between Spirits and Companions, and was waving a hand for emphasis—Lyntar noted with annoyance that several nearby Companions were giving him sympathetic looks.

He glanced back toward the stables, and the retreating forms of the other two. _By the Gods above, they are _going _to pay for this…_

o-o-o-o-o

There was a lot more to being a servant than Leshie had ever thought possible. Just from what Herald Quin was telling her, she was beginning to consider lobbying for servant's rights already. But, she had to admit, it sounded as if being a servant in the Collegium was about as good as you could get. She figured even if she worked harder than she had ever worked before that they would treat her well, and as long as she had a chance to talk with Gabriel or Quin occasionally, and take Aimee out for rides, she'd be relatively happy.

"If you need something to eat, just head down to the kitchen between duties and Arram will find you something. Unless you happen to be down around a meal time, it won't be hot, but there's always food available." Quin winked, an odd sight considering his scars, "around here we know how growing children need to eat, so we make sure to keep the kitchen pantries unlocked. The only stipulation is that you clean up after yourself, but that's just common courtesy."

Leshie nodded. "I would've anyway."

"Of course," he laughed, "you seem the kind to tidy up after yourself."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You'd be surprised, Leshie Hamlin, how many younglings take being here for granted and don't bother to keep their rooms tidy."

Not really, she wouldn't—a lot of her family was like that, and she had always felt sorry for the servants who had to keep the place looking neat and clean. They probably worked their fingers to the bone for the spoiled brats that she had to call siblings… and she was exaggerating, of course. There were only a few family members who were actually that bad. But they were her brothers and sisters, so it was only natural for her to criticize them.

_Still, it wouldn't kill them to put their laundry in the chute instead of leaving it on the floor._

Two steps ahead of her, Quin reached a set of doors and pushed them open. "Through here is the courtyard for the General Trainees. You see? Each wing of the Collegium has its own courtyard, which houses the gardens and a few pretty footpaths. People can go there to relax—the walls block the rest of the world out, so it's a nice spot for a little escapism."

She was very glad that she had bumped into Quin, who, despite his haggard appearance, was actually very nice. If she hadn't met him, she probably would have spent the next ten years wandering the hallways, completely lost and with no way of getting out. But with Quin as a guide, she had managed to get a handle on the General Trainee's wing and the Heraldic Trainee's wing already.

"If we cut across this courtyard, we can skirt Companion's Field and I'll show you the salle and then the Herald's Wing." Quin explained as he stepped outside and waited for her to follow, "after that, I'll give you a quick run through Healers and Bardic, but you probably won't have to go over there all that much, so we won't stay long."

"Okay." Leshie agreed vaguely. She was inspecting the gardens avidly as they made their way through them. There were more flowers in the courtyard than she had ever known existed! "While we're outside, could we stop by the stables? I'd like to check on Aimee."

"Aimee?"

"My horse. I brought her with me to Haven, and I want to make sure she's alright."

Quin chuckled, "you don't have to worry about that, Leshie. Horses here are cared for by the very best. But I don't mind us stopping in for a minute. You can check on Aimee and I'll head over to the edge of the Field and bid good afternoon to my Companion, who was already whining at me for not coming to see her this morning."

_:I wasn't whining because you didn't come and see me.:_ Naja commented, though Leshie couldn't hear her, _:I was whining because it's been two days since you came out and groomed me. I swear, Quin, you love your sword more than you love me!:_

_:Not true, Skyeyes, I've just been busy.:_ He left the courtyard with Leshie in tow, and headed toward the stables with Naja rolling mental eyes in the back of his head. "Stables first, then, and the salle next."

"How long have you been a Herald?"

"Huh?" A blink, "where did that come from?"

Leshie shrugged, "I was just wondering… um, how did you get those scars on your face?"

There was a moment of silence as Quin considered, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled a bit as he grinned. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask that. Usually Littles stare and then demand to know what happened to me within minutes of meeting me."

"I'm not a Little." Leshie pointed out, then, "I'm just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Quin waved a hand, "no, it doesn't bother me. People are always so worried about hurting my feelings, but I've been over it for years." He sighed, "anyway, I got these scars during the Ignatius Uprising about seven years ago—"

"Yes, I remember it." She nodded, "sort of. I was very young when it happened, but some of my older brothers went off to fight. I didn't know there were Heralds involved in it, though…"

"Oh, there are Heralds poking around everywhere." He told her cheerfully as they reached the horse stables and ducked inside for Leshie to find Aimee, "I was down at the border leading a troupe of soldiers along with Herald Radley, and got into a scuffle with a couple of Karsites." He reached up to tap a finger against his cheekbone, "pitchforks scratch hard, you know."

Leshie couldn't help laughing, though she was sure the joke was half-hearted at best, then paused outside one of the stalls and reached out to pat the occupant's shoulder. "This is Aimee. She's the only thing I brought with me when I came here."

"Rakmour breeding." Quin noted as he looked at the mare, who seemed happy and comfortable, but was still wearing some road dust that Leshie hadn't had a chance to get off before, as well as a fleck or two of mud. "She's lovely... but she looks like she could use a good brushing."

In his mind, Naja snorted, sounding decidedly ticked off, and informed him quite calmly; _:if you even _think _about grooming her when you haven't even groomed _me_, I will repudiate you without a second's hesitation.:_

o-o-o-o-o

_:So what do you think?:_ Niressa asked.

Gabriel frowned. The question had come out of the blue, and he wasn't quite sure what she meant by it. His hand faltered for a second, the currycomb pausing, and she glanced back at him curiously. "What do I think of what?"

_:Wearing Heraldic-Trainee Grays, being Chosen, becoming a Herald…?:_

"It's alright." He shrugged, "it's not all that different from being a General Trainee, except for you."

_:And I'm worth all the suffering On Hunt?:_

"I don't know…" Niressa flicked her tail at that, and it stung his arm sharply, making him yelp and mutter something under his breath. "You're cruel sometimes, you know."

_:Only when you stop brushing. Come on, move that hand!:_

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but continued with the comb, sharing a significant glance with Mel, who was in the next stall along with Arlam. "Anyway, what were you guys doing before?" She had sounded suspiciously happy when he'd said they were coming outside, "you were… enthusiastic."

Arlam made a coughing noise. _:Well, we were… ambushed by someone and needed an excuse to get away.:_

"Someone?"

_:Bard Fradrick,:_ Niressa supplied. _:He's scary.:_

There was a second's pause, and then Gabriel began to snicker. He and Mel were newly-Chosen, yes, but they had been at the Collegium long enough to know about Fradrick and his little obsession. They could both just _imagine_ him chasing the new arrivals around the Field, trailing reams and reams of notes.

_:In any case,:_ the mare continued, _:we left Lyntar to keep him occupied.:_

"You left..?" Mel blinked, then; "you _abandoned_ Lyntar with Fradrick? That's—that's cruel!"

_:He can take care of himself.:_ Niressa sniffed. _:He's capable.:_

And Arlam added, _:and handsome.:_

Mel stared, and both Gabriel and Niressa turned to eye the stallion suspiciously. Arlam twitched, and when Mel gave a raised eyebrow, accompanying it by the mental equivalent, he sputtered defensively, _:w-well he _is_! He'll get someone to help him out!:_

The girl shook her head, raising a hand to rub her forehead with a sigh. "The only shaych Companion in Valdemar, and he had to Choose me…"

_:Hey!:_ Arlam yelped, his mindvoice coloured brightly in embarrassment, _:I am not!:_

o-o-o-o-o

Cheyne was so exhausted she fell asleep within seconds of him sliding off her back, so he had to assume he had first watch. Normally, Heralds didn't have to worry much about rotating watch times with their Companions, but given the circumstances, Dragan didn't feel right having both of himself and Cheyne out cold at once: yes, they were at a Waystation and out of the Pelagiris, but he didn't want to take any chances.

_I wonder… those things that attacked Cheyne… would they have hurt me, too? Or were just after her? _ His eyes were focused on the fire pit, which sat a goodly distance away from the Waystation itself. He'd managed to fumble with his newly-developing Gift enough to light a good fire in it, and now he watched the flames dance and spin and tried to figure out his situation.

His Companion was only a few feet away, standing with her knees locked and her head down. She was snoring a little, mentally, which Dragan had to admit was a fairly strange thing to feel inside his mind. But he wasn't about to wake her up and ask her to stop, since he figured if she didn't get a good dose of sleep she was going to fall into a coma. As it was she'd been too tired too even bother lying down, not that it was a big problem since she was distinctly horse-shaped.

_Sleeping standing up must be strange._ Dragan's eyes shifted to Cheyne and then back to the fire, and he pulled his knees up to rest his chin on them. _…I wonder if she's dreaming. Probably about those _things_… whatever they were._

Something like that—he would have heard about it—them—wouldn't he? They would have warned his year group before sending them out on their Hunts. The shadowy things had been dangerous, that much was sure. So why hadn't his teachers told him about them, before he went traipsing through the forest?

_Maybe they're only dangerous to Spirits._

There was a thought. They seemed to have only been after Cheyne, so maybe they only went after Spirits and left humans alone. So, if a Herald was to go through the Pelagiris, would they chance attacking a Companion, too? But… Cheyne was a Companion, since she had Chosen him, so he supposed it didn't make a difference. Maybe they were only after Companions, then?

_This is confusing… I wish she'd just talk about it._

But the mare had been adamant that she wasn't going to explain anything to him, though at the time he had asked she'd been entirely focused on getting out of the Pelagiris and into the populated parts of Valdemar as quickly as possible.

Something in the fire snapped and popped, making the wood shift and sending sparks into the air to vanish into the sky. It wasn't night, wasn't dark, but he was cold right down to his bones and the flame made him feel safer, anyway. Probably, that had something to do with his Gift.

Firestarting.

Dragan had heard of it, of course, when he was at the Collegium, but he'd never seen it in use. The idea that he could start fires with his mind alone seemed… appropriate, but a little frightening. Even after using his Gift twice, he couldn't feel it in his mind. For some reason, he'd thought he'd be able to feel it—be able to tell it was there—maybe a warm part in his head, or something similar.

But he felt the same as he always had, save for the comforting link between himself and Cheyne.

So there was a monster, composed entirely of flame, lurking in his head, but he couldn't even tell it was there. Well, that was a bit disconcerting. Dragan wondered if there was anyone back at Haven who could explain the entire Firestarting Gift to him at all.

The only Herald he knew who had the Gift was Jestel, but his Firestarting was barely there at all.

Maybe Herald Candice. He'd heard that she was a Firestarter, but hadn't ever talked to her, since she wasn't a teacher. He thought she was a special-ops type of Herald: the kind that did menial tasks until a real crisis, and then came out in full-force. Sort of like Herald Quinlan, though being the Weaponsmaster couldn't really be considered menial.

_As if I didn't stand out enough before,_ he thought wryly, _now that I can torch things just by thinking about them, I'm going to be an entire world apart._

o-o-o-o-o

He'd escaped from Fradrick, thank the Gods. Or, more realistically, thanks to Aristides' Chosen, who had swooped in just in the nick of time and nabbed Fradrick about the time Lyntar began seriously thinking about drowning himself in the river. He assumed Ari had called her to rescue him when the Bard didn't show any signs of leaving after nearly a candlemark and a half.

Lyntar's hooves felt like they were growing into the grass, he'd been standing in one spot for so long.

_:I figured you could use a helpful hand,:_ Ari told him from the other side of the Terilee, _:and since I'm sadly lacking in that area, I called Samara to drag Fradrick away. And by the way, I highly disapprove of Arlam and Niressa leaving you alone with him like that.:_

_:I didn't see you volunteering to come over here when they left.:_ Lyntar pointed out, moving from where he'd been pinned for _far_ too long and wandering the few feet to the water to drink.

Ari laughed, _:I had no intention of coming any closer than I was.:_ Now, though, the man was gone so he started toward Lyntar, _:I do admire you listening to him for that long, though. I don't think anyone has ever put up with Fradrick in Full Tilt mode for almost two candlemarks before. It's a record.:_

_:Hurray.:_ The stallion said dryly, _:do I get a prize?:_

_:My admiration will have to do.:_

_:Oh joy.:_

_:It's just amazing. Most can't take him for more than a few minutes, at least not when he's as excited as he is today. When he cornered me, just after I brought Samara back to Haven from her Hunt… well, I'll admit I ducked out after about ten minutes. Havens, Eckran snapped at him and chased him off before he could really get going at all… but then Eckran isn't exactly known for his patience.:_

_:He seems nice.:_ Lyntar watched Ari wade into the stream and then slosh up the bank next to him, tail dripping and water streaming from his legs.

_:Who? Fradrick?:_

_:No, Eckran.:_

_:Oh… yeah, he's nice. A bit stubborn, and a no-nonsense type, but a good all-around person.:_

_:Hm.:_ Lyntar surveyed the Field as the other stallion shook himself—the foals he's noticed earlier were gone from the water, probably to have a rest after tiring themselves out. It seemed to be the lazy sort of day, when most of the Herd relaxed in the shade or sunned themselves and enjoyed the weather. _Or stood and gaped while an excitable Bard babbled at them like a brook…_

His eyes landed on—

—Yauvani.

_Gods, not today, not again, please._

The mare was walking purposely toward him, accompanied by two other Companions.

_:Uh oh.:_ Ari followed his gaze and cringed mentally. _:This… could be trouble.:_

_:No kidding.:_ Lyntar raised his head and glared at Yauvani as she approached, which made her narrow her eyes in return and snort angrily. Not a good way to start a conversation—or confrontation. Whatever. _:What now, Yauvani?:_

_:_Spirit _Lyntar,:_ she replied, her voice calm but dangerously edged with anger. Lyntar growled silently in response to her "Spirit" barb, but refused to sink to her level and respond. _:You and I must share some words. Now.:_


	8. Chain Reaction

**Disclaimer:** Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

**Character Notes:** Healer Marina Cathleen belongs to Herald Mistylenna. Healer-Bard Kilae Hefarte belongs to Fireblade.

**Rant #2:** Okay, here's the deal. For future reference, I would appreciate if people would _read all of In Dreams_ before making rash judgments. This goes for all my stories, actually, but for the AU ones specifically. But this rant is particularly directed toward one specific Reviewer, who was _kind_ enough to grace me with not only a Flame but a plagiarism accusation as well. Angry as it made me when I first read it, I can't seem to do more than roll my eyes now—because when I looked at it again, I realized you'd reviewed "Chapter 2", which is in actuality Chapter 1. So thank you for that moment of mind-numbing rage, but next time please read more than the first chapter of a fic before jumping to conclusions. The word plagiarism is not to be taken lightly, and not something to throw around.

**IN DREAMS**  
**Chapter Seven: Chain Reaction  
By Senashenta**

Crystal and crystal.

Sapphire and sapphire.

_:Leave__ me alone, Yauvani.:_ Lyntar growled.

Behind him, Aristides was watching with worried eyes—and Ari had also been joined by a second stallion, whom Lyntar vaguely recognized as… Wray? He didn't know him well, but he'd met him once or twice when he was younger. In any case, he was glad for the backup, as Yauvani had brought two of her own supporters when she decided to accost him.

_:I__ will not.:_ Yauvani snapped in reply, and the two other Companions—one mare and one stallion—stamped in a restless fashion, the sound only serving to reinforce Yauvani's statement. Ari's ears went back, and Wray raised a lip contemptuously but Lyntar did nothing besides stare her down. _:I__ have come to tell you to leave, _Spirit _Lyntar. We of Haven do not need your kind among us.:_

_:My_kind_?:_ He repeated incredulously.

Ari snorted angrily, _:his__ kind is _our_ kind, Yauvani. Lyntar has Chosen, and by our laws that makes him a Companion—:_

_:I__ am not talking about that!:_ The mare snarled, glaring firey blue, _:you are out of place, _Aristides_! You have no right to speak to me this way, and I would advise you to keep your nose out of this.:_

Ari gaped for a moment, but before he could start into a tirade of his own, Wray interrupted, speaking for the first time. His Voice was calm, but with force behind it, and Lyntar had the fleeting impression that he had been a Bard in a previous life. _:It's__ you that has no right, Yauvani—no right to speak to Lyntar this way, and no right to question his Choice.:_ Raising his head, he eyed the other Companion flatly, _:there are those among us who didn't agree with _your _Choice, and those who even more strongly feel that you and Lamont should _not _hold the kind of command that you do. But we did not question you when you Chose Lamont and brought him to Haven, and we did not question the Elders when they assigned you as their liaison. So… what right do _you _have to question Lyntar and Brianna?:_

_:The_girl _has no Gifts!:_ Yauvani Shouted, Mindvoice reverberating loudly in everyone's heads. _:Not only did this—this—this _creature_ Choose out of Hunt, but he Chose one of the _unGifted_!:_ Her Voice had risen in pitch, and she was vaguely wide-eyed as she glared down her nose at them, _:this cannot be allowed!:_

Well.

Lyntar blinked for a moment, so caught off guard by Yauvani's sudden declaration that he couldn't muster up the words to respond: he knew that Bri was among Valdemar's Gifted. And she was _strongly _Gifted as well—he could _feel _it, a brooding, stormy presence in the back of his _own_ mind, but definitely coming from Bri and not from his own consciousness. How could she be saying that—

Anger replaced his befuddlement, even though Ari and Wray still seemed puzzled, and he snorted, a rumbling noise in the back of his throat, before meeting Yauvani's angry gaze squarely. _:Bri _is _Gifted, Yauvani! Why must you slander _her _as well as me? Do you hate me so much, for breaking away from the Customs of Old?:_

Crystal eyes flashed, and the mare's nose flared. _:She_has no Gifts_! Lamont has seen it for himself! _Spirit _Lyntar, Herald Jenica herself Tested your mis-Chosen girl, and could find _no hint _of Heraldic Gifts—!:_

_:—this is just because you're so set in the __Old Ways that—:_

_:—_Spirit_ Lyntar! You forget that I am an envoy to the Elders, and—:_

_:—and the Elders can go to Hell for all I care! Just leave Bri out of-:_

_:—how _dare_ you speak of the Elders with such disrespect—?!:_ Yauvani was on the verge of outright Screaming, and everyone except for Lyntar was wincing from the vocality of their argument—everyone _including_ the two Companions who had originally come to support her and her claims. _:You are nothing, Lyntar! Nothing by a Spirit who wants to become a hero by betraying all of the ways of his people! You can never be anything more than a betrayer, Lyntar, and that girl can never be anything more than a whore!:_

Something inside his mind gave way on those words, and with an almost tangible _snapping_ nose a wave of fury swept outward like a flash flood as he lost control of his mental powers and drowned everyone around him in angry energy—

o-o-o-o-o

"I hope you don't mind me tagging along." Bri looked hopefully toward Jemeste once more, and once more the other girl just waved a hand nonchalantly, shifting her measuring string absently against her other.

"Of course not."

Relieved, but still feeling like a tag-along, she nodded and turned her attention to the corridor around them—and, again, marvelled at the general amazingness of the Collegium. Her life would never be the same again! Not that she was really going to_ complain_ about not having to work in a brothel...

Bri _did_, however, intend to complain about Lyntar as much as humanly possible in the hopes that maybe, some day, he would get the hint and vacate her head. It was strange to have another person in there with her—though, come to think of it, he'd been absent for about a candlemark...

Maybe he was _already_ getting that hint?

She could only hope...

"So," Jemeste said, interrupting her thoughts, "you'll probably be starting classes tomorrow, right? Or maybe the next day?"

"As soon as I have a schedule, I think." Bri responded with a shrug.

"Right, so probably tomorrow." She smiled, "the Dean gets right on things like that... doesn't like to keep new Trainees waiting, be they General or Heraldic, or anything else that happens to wander onto the grounds."

A joke? Bri couldn't decide. "Did you ever have to take classes, Jemeste?"

"No—well, yes." A pause, and she frowned, "not the same type that Trainees that go here get, but I did some basic reading and writing, and a bit of math. The reading and writing are important for what I do, being a servant, but the math wasn't so much. I took those classes along with some of the other servants."

"Oh."

"You'll be doing a lot more, though," Jemeste continued, "especially since you didn't have the General Trainee courses before hand—you have to do it _all_ now, which means all the General classes _and_ all the Heraldic classes. I don't envy you, you know. There's a _lot_ of work! Between your schooling, your weapons training, your _survival_ training, _and_ whatever chores you're assigned, you'll be lucky to get to sleep before midnight every night, and then you'll have to be up again before dawn!"

The way Jemeste was putting it, it almost sounded _worse_ than the brothel—at least there, her shift hadn't started until the afternoon at the earliest, and from the sounds of it she would be getting more sleep back at the 'inn' than at the Collegium.

_Damn that stupid horse for dragging me into all this..._

To say she was torn was an understatement, and as her mind began an all-too-familiar argument, she could only sit back and listen: the brothel or the Collegia, being alone—or having Lyntar.

She didn't think of him as an "it" anymore, she realized. For a while, what seemed like years, but had only been a day or so, she _had_. In her mind, he was been either an "it" or a "horse", though she knew that neither was particularly flattering in the mind of a Companion. And it frightened her that she had graduated to "him", "he" and "Lyntar" so quickly.

If she accepted him, then he had won.

"What's it like, having a Companion?" Jemeste asked, curious.

Bri blinked, then rolled her eyes. "Like sharing your brain with a sarcastic, egotistical brother."

"Um..." she seemed confused, "that doesn't sound very nice—uh, Bri? What—?"

A strange feeling, like thunder in the night, and Bri froze in mid-step.

_Lyntar..?_

o-o-o-o-o

He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think—

Niressa's forehead thumped forcefully into his side, and Gabriel gasped, his breath forced out of him. In the next stall, Arlam's head came up sharply and his ears flattened against his head, a mirror of what Niressa was doing. Mel had stopped grooming him, and was frowning, concentrating, but didn't seem to be having the same troubles as the other Trainee.

A shadow, dark and foreboding, hung low in the air and choked off any nearby lines of energy—they shrivelled, shrank, died, as if someone had tapped them dry. And in Gabriel's mind, a tense cloud of anger—rage—spite whirled and danced, and threatened to spill over into coherence in the blink of an eye.

"Niressa, what—?!"

The mare's eyes widened, _:it's__—there's—it's Lyn, I think, but he—can't—:_

The storm broke, cutting off her sentence and driving her to the floor of the stable in a single, painful moment. Gabriel followed her, his hands clamped over his ears instinctively, his head bowed down toward his chest as if to protect it—but there was nothing he could do to defend himself against the psychic onslaught that raged in the air around him.

Next to him in the hay, Niressa attempted to push herself to her feet—but her legs seemed unable to hold her, and she slipped down to the floor once more. He watched her struggles through half-closed eyes, tears welling up to blur his vision—

o-o-o-o-o

She screamed—and screamed—and screamed—

She could do nothing else.

Her mind was afire, burning in an inferno of hatred and—

_It's... because..._

A lone coherent thought began to emerge through the roaring pain that danced in her skull—and then it was gone again, swallowed by the void that was growing within herself before she could grasp it. Hot needles dug into her, pushed deeply into her thoughts by whatever was fuelling the mind storm that now tore through the Collegia and into Haven beyond.

No...

Not _whatever_.

"Lyn... tar..."

The final thought, a single word mouthed in a whisper as Bri's legs gave out and she crumpled to the ground. It was Lyntar who was causing the pain, and the storm—who _was_ the storm, retribution from the Havens, unleashed upon the mortal world below.

For an instant, she saw white—silver—blue—the purest light she had never imagined seeing—

And then—

Blackness.

o-o-o-o-o

Cheyne's ears were back, her eyes wide and her nostrils flared. She danced uneasily, despite Dragan's comforting hands on her neck and the worried tone to his voice, her questing mind brushing against something dark—dangerous—something terrible, yet with the energy signature and aura overtones of—

_Of a Companion._

They were close enough to Haven that she could easily tell where the strange waves of rolling energy were coming from, yet far enough away that her own mind wasn't adversely affected. That didn't stop her stomach from doing summersaults, though, and it seemed more than interested in leaping right up her throat and out of her mouth, given half a chance. She hoped she could keep from throwing up, which wasn't a fun activity to engage in, no matter who you were.

"Cheyne! What is it—?" Dragan was leaning forward to try to see her face, concern etched into his features and his brows drawn together worriedly. For a moment, Cheyne thanked the Havens that his Gifts didn't include much in the way of Thoughtsensing.

Whuffing nervously, she made a point of Shielding his mind anyway, and then responded finally; _:Something__ bad is happening in Haven.:_

Surprise. "What?"

_:I__ don't know.:_ She took a single, tentative step forward, then shook her head and broke into a faltering trot. _:I__ don't know, Dragan. But we're going to find out soon.:_

o-o-o-o-o

He couldn't stop what was happening.

Awash in his own energies, caught in a riptide that was pulling his consciousness farther into the depths of the shadows, Lyntar could only stand, frozen by energy he had no control over, while those around him dropped to the ground, forced downward by the sheer power of his untapped potential.

Sapphire eyes were wide, frightened, staring straight ahead.

Yauvani's legs bowed, her nose nearly touching the grass and her own eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught, and though he hated her as much as he had ever hated anything before, he wished there was something he could do to clamp down on the raw energy that was pouring from his own mind.

But it was too much for him—

_:LYNTAR__!:_

Something—a vague white shape in the corner of his frozen eye—physically slammed into him, knocking his feet out from under him and making him tumble sideways, landing on the ground. Whatever had collided with him followed, once more hitting him as it landed against his side and then rolled over him to rest a few feet away.

He was breathing harshly.

Deep, panicked breaths—

—but his mind was his own once more, and instead of a torrent of raw, white energy, a flood of pain overtook him. A low keening groan came from him as he kicked weakly—it felt, to him, like he was struggling against a drift of heavy snow—his thoughts were bogged down—

_:Lyn__—:_

Rella's voice.

He managed to lift his head and look toward where she was lying—where she had landed, sprawled a short distance away, stretched out on her side with her mane and tail in a tangle and her eyes open, staring at him. Her expression was blank, her eyes pained, and her breathing irregular. She must have hurt herself when she hit him—but she had knocked him out of the energy loop he had been trapped in.

And it must have taken tremendous force of will to even stay on her feet long enough to do that.

_:Rella__, what—are you—:_

_:I'm__ fine. I'll be fine.:_ She blinked slowly, and then fixed her gaze firmly on him, the blank look gone and replaced by what could only be anger. _:Lyntar__, what in the Nine Hells... what did you think you were doing?:_

He couldn't remember.

Only that he'd been angry. So angry that... what had Yauvani said? She'd said... something about Bri... and then there was _white_, and stars, and he could only watch while everyone around him was felled by the power of his mind alone.

_:It__ doesn't make any sense.:_ Rella muttered.

He stared at her, still in shock, as she carefully shoved herself to her feet. She was favouring her left hind leg, keeping the pressure off of it, but didn't seem too much worse for wear. Indeed, the familiar, semi-antagonistic air had returned to her as quickly as it had left, though her breathing had yet to return to normal.

_:What__... doesn't make sense?:_

He found himself the uncomfortable focus of Rella's scrutinizing gaze once again as she sniffed and headed toward where Aristides and Wray were, flat out in the grass and looking more than a little bit dazed. _:It__ doesn't make sense,:_ she continued, nosing Wray to make sure he was alright, _:because only the Elders... have that kind of power.:_

Lyntar shoved himself to his feet, swayed a bit, and managed to keep from falling.

There was more coming in Rella's statement, and he knew it.

_:And__ the last time I checked,:_ she said contemplatively, _:you weren't one of them.:_

He simply stared, one ear twitching anxiously, and after another long moment Rella whirled away from Wray, leaving the stallion to heave himself up, to glare at him again; _:don't just stand there, you dolt!:_ She snapped, making him wince, _:I'd bet my tail that Brianna Felt that, too!:_

And then the realization—

_:Good__ Gods—Bri!:_

o-o-o-o-o

Senior Healer Marina Cathleen hurried from room to room in the Healer's Collegium, passing out teas and other potions to deal with the backlash and general aches and pains which followed_ whatever-it-was_ that had just transpired—and she wasn't the only Healer doing so. In fact, every Healer in the Collegia complex was running full-tilt, despite their own various hurts.

She wasn't sure about the others, but she knew _she_ had a headache from hell.

_Bother! I'll live. I can treat myself after I deal with everyone else._

Heralds and Bards, as well as Trainees from the various Collegiums and students from the Unaffiliated school on the grounds seemed to be coming out of the woodwork, appearing from nowhere, and all with at least one complaint, but in most cases several.

Marina was a seasoned Healer, but the sudden inpouring of patients were almost too much for her to manage, and her already thin patience was close to its breaking point. Indeed, she was already being short and snapping at many of those she treated—not that any of them cared all that much. They were just happy to gulp down the headache potions and pain tonics she had stuffed into the cloth sack that was slung over her shoulder.

A flash of green ahead of her drew her eyes upward just in time for another Healer to zip past at the end of the hall.

"Kilae!"

The other woman jerked to a halt, spinning to respond to her call; "Marina—?"

"Where are you going?"

Kilae fidgeted, "there are more patients coming in—I need to clear some room for them, or they'll have to wait out in the gardens—"

"It won't do them any harm." Marina interrupted, shaking her head, "still—clear out the children's wing, and bring all the kids that can be moved down here. They can bunk with some of the adults who are up to keeping an eye on them—that'll save us a few Healers, at least. After that, anyone who comes in for treatment will have to stay outside. It's mostly headaches and bumps anyway, so it won't kill them to be in the fresh air—and have you seen Raf?"

"Uh—no?"

"If you see him, tell him I want him making rounds at the Heraldic Collegium. I already sent Galena and Jason to Bardic, since I couldn't find you, and Althea and Keyah to the Blues wings, but I still need people to check the Heralds. They're stubborn enough that a lot of them will be ignoring backlash and the like to deal with other problems, and we can't have Heralds running around half-blind with migraines."

"Okay—"

"Good." Shifting the sack against her shoulder, Marina wrinkled her nose in thought; "come to think of it, if you see Kallam, tell _him_ to go to the Heraldic Collegium, too. I'm about to go out and see to the Companions—hopefully they won't be too bad off and I can get back in soon..."

Kilae nodded, "is that it?"

"Yes, yes," she waved the Healer-Bard away, and watched her hurry down the corridor before continuing her own frantic pace.

She really did hope that the Companions wouldn't need all that much in the way of Healing—not that she didn't understand their intelligence, as well as their importance, but she had _more_ than enough human patients on her plate, never mind the four-legged ones.

_And not enough Healers, as always._

Major disasters always seemed to fall when they were understaffed—as it was, only six months before they had sent out nearly _half_ of their trained Healers to take up stations along the Karsite border. With the border-raids, and the enmity between Valdemar and Karse having risen, they were sorely needed among the border settlements.

And all that was well and good, but left them severely handicapped in the Healer's department when something big went down in Haven. They had hoped to have enough time to finish training some of the current Healer-Trainees before a major catastrophe leapt upon them... but, apparently, the Gods had other plans.

_Curse whoever's responsible for this,_ she thought in annoyance, _when I find out who it is, they are going to get a _more _that sever tongue lashing!_

In fact, her thoughts were going along the vein of a _real_ lashing, despite that being against the vows she took as a Healer.

o-o-o-o-o

Quin was leaning against the door to Aimee's stall. Somehow he'd managed to catch himself before he actually _fell_, and propped himself there while something ravaged his thoughts and left him with a headache to end all headaches. Leshie was slumped against the wall of the stables, having passed out shortly before the entire episode ended.

He knew something was wrong—_obviously_ something was wrong, but he didn't know _what_. It seemed that Aimee knew something was wrong as well, despite only being a horse; the palfrey was shuffling agitatedly in her stall, and whuffing in the Herald's hair whenever the whim took her to do so.

"Quin—what—was that—?"

A bit surprised, he blinked hazily at Leshie as she lifted her head to peer at him vaguely.

"Don't know," he managed to reply, with a hint of a grin. Still holding on to the edge of the door with one hand, he raised the other to his head and winced at the throbbing that ensued, "don't know…"

_:A__… a Mind Storm… of some kind…:_ Naja's Voice was rough and weak, and it was clear that she was in considerable pain as well. _:I__ think… I think one of _us_ caused it…:_

One of them? A Companion?

Well that would be a strange development, wouldn't it?

o-o-o-o-o

A little befuddled, and with her mind _more_ than a little foggy, Jemeste forced her eyes open and found herself staring at the ceiling of the Collegium corridor she had been in when... when... when...

_What happened, anyway?_

Groaning softly, she levered herself up on her elbows and blinked a few times to clear her eyes. Dizziness set in upon that motion, and she had to concentrate to keep from falling over. Now was probably _not_ the best time to get up, and the goose egg that was trying to grow out of the back of her head only furthered that impression.

_Oooh__... ow..._

Beside her, Bri was sprawled on her stomach, face against the floor and eyes closed. Despite the dizziness, Jemeste half-crawled and half-pushed her way over to her friend and gave the other girl a bit of a shake.

"Bri..."

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

What was she going to do? She was just a servant...

Footsteps in the hallway, approaching from the left—or was it the right? Jemeste found her mind spinning out of control, and there was no way for her to be sure of the direction. Still, she was certain there was someone coming—she thought, anyway—but in any case, she needed to stand up, or at least _say_ something so that whoever was coming toward them would know they were there.

"H-hey—" the word was choked, and her voice hoarse. She tried again. "Hey—"

The footsteps quickened, and a moment later a figure came into view. A figure in Healer's Greens, for which Jemeste thanked her lucky stars. The man hurried toward them, hauling a bag full to bursting with tonics and potions, and looking both stressed and _distressed_ all at the same time. Dropping the bag, he knelt down beside her and helped her prop herself up against the wall—upon closer inspection, Jemeste noted pain lines in the way he was holding his mouth.

_He's hurt, too._

"Are you alright?"

"I think... but my friend..."

He nodded, but proceeded to check her pupils and heart rate anyway. Once he was satisfied, he sat back on his heels with a concerned glance toward where Bri was sprawled. "Will you be alright by yourself, do you think?"

Jemeste hesitated, then; "yes, I think..."

"Alright." Standing up, the man turned and knelt next to Bri for a moment, doing the save general checks on her that he had done on Jemeste—but this time, there was something wrong. Frowning, he began to carefully pick her up from the floor. "You wait here for a few minutes, and I'll be right back for you—but I'm going to take your friend to Healers first. I don't think you should be walking, or I'd get you to come with me... I'll carry you myself when I get back."

"But..."

"Okay?"

Still fuzzy, Jemeste nodded. "Yes..?"

Without another word, he left his bag behind and started back down the hallway in the same direction that he came from.


End file.
